


Unwanted surprise

by tashaxxxxxx



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, Panic Attacks, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Warlord Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 89,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashaxxxxxx/pseuds/tashaxxxxxx
Summary: Geralt thought the worst thing that could ever happen was Jaskier being kidnapped by Nilfgaard mere days before his heat but he was wrong. Knowing Jaskier was pregnant with the child of his rapist was so much worse.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 119
Kudos: 401





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning mention of rape non con elements please don’t read in uncomfortable

Geralt didn’t think he would ever forget the sight that greeted him 6 days after Jaskier’s capture by the Nilfgaardian’s. Jaskier was chained spread eagled and face down on the bed. His whole body was covered in blood, cum and there wasn’t a part of his body on display not covered in the ugly shades of purple bruising. The thick scent of Jaskier’s heat mixed with the arousal of alpha’s clung in the air. Jaskier had his face buried into the mattress, body shivering from the cold and Geralt could see the tear stained mattress from here.

“Fuck.” Lambert breathed from Geralt’s side as Geralt stormed into the room. He knelt down by Jaskier’s side, gently carding a hand through his omega’s hair. Jaskier didn’t even flinch, his blue eyes staring unseeing at Geralt as he continued to silently cry. His skin was hot to the touch from the heat. The usual scent of honey and camomile that covered Jaskier was masked under layers of fear and pain and it made the anger Geralt had been feeling for days now spike even higher. 

Eskel handed him keys from the dead guardsman outside the room and Geralt took them silently. As gently as he could, Geralt unlocked the cuffs around Jaskier’s arms and legs, watching as his omega’s body slumped into the mattress now free of his bonds. “Jask?” Geralt spoke, voice quiet as he once more returned to where Jaskier’s face was buried into he mattress.

“G’ralt?” Jaskier’s voice was croaky and thin but Geralt thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. Jaskier’s blue eyes blinked silently up at Geralt, face creased in pain. Both eyes were decorated with black eyes and his lip was swollen from a cut there.

“You’re ok now Jask, we’ll get you out of here.” Geralt promised, gently rubbing the spot on Jaskier’s head he knew calmed his omega down from nightmares. Jaskier closed his eyes under the touch, body seeming to slump further as relief coarser through him.

“Here.” Eskel grunted, passing a thin blanket to Geralt. Geralt nodded, throwing the covering over Jaskier’s limp body. Jaskier whimpered when the blanket hit his bruised and battered body but didn’t say a word. He still hadn’t moved from the position the Nilfgaardian’s had tied him in and Geralt wondered if it was because he was to tired or his body hurt to much to move. 

“Can you move?” Geralt asked, voice soft and as gentle as he knew how to make it. Jaskier shook his head. “That’s ok, I’ll carry you.” Geralt said. He knew this would hurt Jaskier but they had to get him out of here. Geralt refused to let Jaskier stay on this bed a moment longer.

True to what he thought, the second he wrapped gentle arms around Jaskier’s body to roll him onto his side his omega let out a pain-filled groan, whimpering and body instinctively curling into a feral position to try and protect himself from the pain. “I’m sorry Jask.” Geralt whispered, kissing Jaskier’s head softly. As he did so he caught the scent of the sickeningly sweet scent of his omegas heat. It was a scent Geralt knew well from 20 years of being mated with his omega but now it just knocked him sick. That was the scent that had caused those bastards to do this to his sweet caring loving mate. 

Jaskier let out a broken sob as Geralt gently lifted Jaskier into his arms. Geralt winced as he secured his hold, cradling Jaskier against his chest. Jaskier’s head buried into Geralt’s chest, body curling so it was as small as possible. Eskel came over, gently adjusting the blanket wrapped around Jaskier. His amber eyes, mirrored by Lambert standing guard at the door and Geralt was sure his own, were filled with pain, sorrow and vengeful anger at the sight of the vibrant bright bard they knew reduced to this.

Jaskier was a tall man, tall and well built for an omega but right now Geralt felt like he was carrying a much smaller man. The pained whimpers that Jaskier had been giving off as Geralt slowly walked down the corridor had stopped and as Geralt glanced down he saw that Jaskier’s eyes were closed, body lim in unconsciousness. At least it would keep the pain away for the time being.

As Geralt followed Eskel and lambert down the long corridor’s of the castle the Nilfgaardians had been hiding in since attacking Ciri’s presentation ceremony, Geralt let his mind wander past the screams of dying Nilfgaardians and the feeling of his injured mate held secure in his arms.

It had meant to be a celebration. Ciri had turned 14 that day and the Witchers had travelled to Cintra for her presentation. Geralt still couldn’t believe the small terrified 4 year old girl the Witchers had taken in 10 years ago was now the feisty, clever girl she was now. Geralt knew her Grandmother would be proud of the woman Ciri had turned into.

When Jaskier had demanded Geralt go with him to Pavetta, Ciri’s Mother’s betrothal; Geralt hadn’t been pleased. But he had never been able to deny his mate anything the omega asked so Geralt had grumbled and growled but had relented all the same. He had expected a roomful of annoying nobles who ignored and pretended the White Wolf, feared warlord of the North, wasn’t in their presence. Instead what he received was Queen Calanthe’s undivided attention. Geralt would never tell Jaskier this but he suspected the only reason Jaskier had been invited to play at the betrothal ceremony was so Calanthe could meet the White Wolf. Geralt spent the evening grunting at Calanthe’s discussions on war and her thoughts on the Witchers war techniques, eyes watching as Jaskier played the room to his tune. Jaskier always knew how to play a room to his tune, having the nobles clapping and dancing to his lute as he danced among them, singing with utter joy on his face.

And then everything had gone to shit and Geralt had ended up saving Duny, Ciri’s Father’s life. And as payment he had claimed the law of surprise, fully expecting to be saddled with either a few bags of grain or maybe even a new horse, but instead he’d been given a child surprise Ciri.

Suffice to say Calanthe had been furious, demanding Geralt leave at once and making it clear she never wanted a single Witcher to step foot in Cintra again. Geralt had agreed, terror having gripped him at the idea of having a child tied to him by destiny. And then, 4 years later Yennefer had received word from the Chapter that Nilfgaard where planning an attack on Cintra.

Geralt had been fully intent on ignoring this fact, after all Calanthe was the most capable alphas he had ever met. He had no doubt she would beat back Nilfgaard easily. But worries plagued him for days after hearing the news and after a week of Geralt brooding silently, Jaskier had forced Geralt to admit the truth. They had argued, shouting loudly at each other as Jaskier called him “An ignorant arse who wouldn’t recognise feelings if it hit him in the face.” And Geralt blaming his mate for ‘piling this shit into his life on top of the rest of the shit he had to deal with.”

They hadn’t spoken for days afterwards but as Geralt lay in the cold of his room, bereft of Jaskier he realised his mate had been right. For 4 years Geralt had felt the pull of destiny and stubbornly ignored it and now he knew the child he was tied to was in danger, he couldn’t just ignore it. The Witchers set for Cintra 2 days later, after Geralt had emphatically apologised to jaskier and Jaskier had grinned mischievously and called him a “Stubborn Witcher but you are my stubborn Witcher so I suppose I have to forgive you.”

They had left just in time as when they arrived at Cintra the walls were aflame an Nilfgaard were storming the walls. The Witchers managed to beat back the army and liberate the city but when Geralt got to the castle he found Calanthe lying on her death bed, bloody wound on her side. And on her death bed she demanded that Geralt uphold the law of surprise. Demanded that he take Ciri and raise her and protect her in Calanthe’s stead. What could Geralt do but agree to the dying woman’s request.

Without Jaskier and Yennefer, Geralt didn’t think he would have ever succeeded in raising Ciri. He was a Witcher, not made for raising a small child. But years with Jaskier had shown him it was ok to love, ok to feel like a human would. And within days of Ciri coming to Kaer Morhen he found himself loving Ciri like he would a daughter. Between himself, Jaskier and Yennefer the 3 raised the girl as their own child. 

“Shit, is he alright?” Aidan asked, voice filled with pain and worry as Geralt walked into the hall that Yennefer and Triss had conjured the portals. There were 20 Witchers in the hall, the other 30 they had brought finishing clearing the castle of any lingering Nilfgaards.

Geralt grunted in answer, eyes drifting down to Jaskier. If he looked past the bruises, Geralt could almost pretend Jaskier was asleep in his arms. But the scent of Jaskier’s heat still running riot through his body mixed with the scent of multiple alphas stopped that thought in its tracks.

“Shouldn’t have killed them so fucking fast. Should have made them suffer.” Letho growled and the Witchers in the room growled their agreement. Geralt would have agreed as well but right now he didn’t care. it was enough that the men that did this were dead.

“Triss take them through the portal, I’ll follow soon.” Yennefer stated, voice as businesslike as it always was. But the violet eyes, sparkling with unshed tears betrayed the outward calm the sorceress portrayed. She was as worried for Jaskier as the rest of them. 

“We’ll handle this Geralt, you get our lark home and safe.” Eskel said, eyes dropping down to Jaskier with obvious concern. Geralt grunted, he had had no intention of leaving Jaskier in the care of anyone else regardless.

When Strygga Castle, the seat of the school of the Cats, was attacked over a century ago; the Witchers had been in shock. There had always been a rumbling of hate and fear regarding Witchers but there had never been such a blatant attack on them before now. The Cat Witchers had been left utterly demolished, the only Witchers of the Cat School surviving being those that had been on the path. 30 Witchers of a school that had once held 200 survived. Geralt shuddered to think what would have happened if the Witchers had agreed to stand together.

The chosen representatives of every school spent that winter in Kaer Morhen, planning what should be done. The Bear Witchers wanted to attack the humans then and there, revenge for what had been done to the school of the cat. The griffins counciled that if they stayed hidden in their schools for a few years the fear and paranoia would disappear and the humans would be persuaded to allow the Witchers back in their societies simply because of the monsters that would run riot without Witcher intervention.

In the end, it was agreed that the Witchers would stand together against the humans. As one army, under one agreed leader and they would pay back any human army that dare repeat the incident of Strygga castle. A completion was held that winter, to decide the Witcher to be named warlord. Geralt, persuaded by Vesemir took part and by some miracle won. Sometimes he thought it was destiny playing some cruel trick on him that had caused him to win above all else but Vesemir would say if it was destiny then she had chosen the right Witcher.

With the newly formed war band of Witchers, the humans didn’t stand a chance. They attempted to attack each school and each time they were met with an army of over 1000 Witchers, standing strong and ready to beat them back. And thus they were named the warlords of the North, humans to afraid of what would happen should they incur the wrath of the Witchers. 

As Geralt stepped followed Triss through the portal leading back to Kaer Morhen he was immediately greeted by Vesemir and Ciri standing at the front of the castle. “Take Jaskier up to your rooms.” Triss said, placing a gentle hand on Geralt’s shoulder as she looked at Jaskier. “I’ll be up in soon. Ciri, Vesemir help me get the things we need to heal him.” 

Lifting his eyes up to meet those of his mentor and daughter, Geralt felt pain fill him again. Vesemir was looking at Jaskier with the heartbroken look the news of Strygga Castle reached them for the first time. And Ciri, fuck Ciri was crying freely, pain and guilt flashing across the newly presented alphas face.

Ciri blamed herself for what had happened. When Nilfgaard had attacked the presentation, none of them had seen it coming. They only had 30 Witchers with them, those of the schools who were closest to Ciri who Geralt had brought with him to witness the presentation. Along with Yennefer, Triss and Jaskier their party had been too small to stop the attack from Nilfgaard before they took Jaskier.

The Nilfgaardian army attacked the walls of Cintra, and Geralt foolishly believing Jaskier and Ciri to be safe inside the castle had ordered his Witchers to stand with the Cintra army and fight back the Nilfgaard army. They succeeded but only because taking Cintra had never been the goal of that attack. They had been a diversion. 

Ciri had told him later that a group of 10 Nilfgaards had stormed into the Cintra castle while the guards and Witchers were protecting the walls. They had come for Ciri. Jaskier had grabbed the girls hand and dragged Ciri out of the hall, further into the castle with every intention of hiding them both away in safety. It would have worked if the soldiers hadn’t been there with the soul purpose of taking Ciri with them.

When Geralt and the Witchers had beaten back the Nilgaardian army, nearly 3 hours later, they had entered the Cintra castle only for Ciri to collide head first with Geralt sobbing uncontrollably. The soldiers had cornered her and Jaskier in one of the corridors and Jaskier had told Ciri to run. Pushed her back the way they had come and told her to run and hide. She hadn’t wanted to, had wanted to argue but the fierce look in Jaskier’s eyes told her not to. “I didn’t want to leave him. I didn’t want to.” She had looked back as she turned a corner to find the Nilfgaards surrounding the omega and had known Jaskier hadn’t stood a chance.

“You did the right thing.” Geralt had said, pushing aside the anger as he hugged Ciri close. Ciri had been right to run. If Nilfgaard had taken Ciri as well as Jaskier Geralt didn’t know what he might have done. But the anger that coarser through his veins upon Ciri’s telling was hard to push aside. It wasn’t that he was angry with Ciri, rather angry with himself. Angry he had fallen for the obvious trap and hadn’t been there to protect his family. Geralt had failed Jaskier.

That thought ran through his mind now as he gently lowered Jaskier onto the blankets covering their bed. Jaskier groaned softly, blue eyes fluttering open weakly. “G’ralt?” Jaskier groaned and Geralt gently stroked his sweat soaked hair.

“I’m here.” When Geralt had lain Jaskier on the bed, the blanket covering him had shifted, revealing the bruises patterning his torso. Geralt pushed aside the anger and guilt gnawing through him as he gently stroked Jaskier’s hair, offering the little comfort he could. “You’re safe now.”

“Ciri?” Jaskier croaked, eyes flashing around the room as if he would see the girls ashen blonde hair run to his side. 

“She’s safe. She’s not hurt.” Jaskier sagged into the bed, breathing a ragged breath of relief as he closed his eyes. The silence in the rooms as stifling and Geralt wished he could do something to stop the pained ragged breathing coming from his mate. But all he could do was sit here and watch as Jaskier suffered through the pain.

“‘m ok.” Jaskier breathed, hand trembling on the mattress as if he wanted to lift it and touch Geralt. Geralt quickly took his hand in his, squeezing softly careful of the bruising around his wrist where he had pulled against the chain tying him down.

Geralt tried to smile but he couldn’t bring himself to. Not in the face of Jaskier’s pain. He was aware of stinging in his eyes and stubbornly pushed back the tears threatening to low. He didn’t deserve to cry when it was Jaskier who was hurt. Geralt deserved to suffer for not being there to protect Jaskier. “‘s not your fault.” Jaskier murmured, eyes closing again as he stroked a circle along Geralt’s palm.

Geralt was about to say something more when the door flung open and Triss and Yennefer walked through. Vesemir fallowed behind, holding a large jug of steaming water. Both sorceresses where laden with potions and bandages, fierce looks in their eyes as they directed Vesemir to set the water down.

“You need to leave.” Yennefer stated, voice flat. Geralt was about to protest that he wasn’t going anywhere, wasn’t leaving Jaskier alone ever again when his omega gently squeezed his hands. Jaskier’s grip was weak but it got Geralt’s attention and he looked down at his omega’s blue eyes.

“I’ll be fine. Go.” Jaskier breathed. Geralt stayed looking at Jaskier a moment longer before letting go of his mates hand and allowing Yennefer to usher him out of the room.

The door slammed shut the second Geralt was out of the door and he found himself sagging bonelessly against the wall. “He’ll be alright.” Vesemir said, slapping Geralt’s shoulder and squeezing. Geralt ignored him, glaring daggers at the floor. Vesemir stayed with his hand on Geralt’s shoulder a moment longer before sighing and letting go. “Yennefer and Triss will make sure he’s ok and Jaskier’s strong. He’ll be fine.” Geralt wished he believed those words but all he could think was how fragile Jaskier had been in his arms. He should have been there to protect his omega. He should never have let this happen.

Geralt met jaskier 25 years ago, in Posada. He was spending a year walking the path, leaving the murky depths of politics for Eskel and Vesemir to deal with in his absence. He had forgotten after so many years spent in Kaer Morhen leading the Witchers how good it was to walk the path. To not have to think about anything past his next meal or the monster he was hunting that day.

Although the Witchers were now known across the Continent as a feared army, they still walked the path. Still fought the monsters for coin. They did it because they were built to do it and because they enjoyed it. Witchers weren’t made for four walls, they were made to wander and as Geralt enjoyed the open free air around him without a single care on his shoulders he found himself relaxing more and more.

Jaskier had been 18 then, singing in the local tavern. Geralt hadn’t been impressed upon his first look of the bard and neither were the villagers who had promptly thrown bread at the young bard and booed him off the stage. Jaskier hadn’t seemed to care, shoving the bread down his pants and then proceeding to walk over to Geralt’s table.

“I love how you just sit in the corner and brood.” Jaskier had stated, leaning against the tavern pillar, ale in hand and a cocky smile on his face. Geralt had growled at him, noting the sweet scent of omega under the camomile covering the boys skin. Jaskier hadn’t ben phased, had even sat down opposite Geralt and asked the Witcher for a review of his performance. “3 words or less.”

“They don’t exist.” Geralt found himself growling much to his annoyance. He hadn’t wanted to let this annoying bard drag him into a conversation.

“What don’t exist?” Jaskier said, confusion knitting in those vibrant blue eyes. They were the first thing Geralt had noticed, the vibrant honest open expression in those eyes. To innocent for a boy of Jaskier’s age to be walking the path.

And once more Geralt found himself drawn into conversation. He hadn’t spoken to anyone but Roach in weeks and no this bard was making him talk and Geralt found his annoyance spark even further. But he was also curious, even more so when Jaskier loudly declared he knew who the Witcher in front of him was. When Jaskier spoke the words, “Geralt of Rivia, warlord of the Witchers.” Geralt felt the tension in the air but the bard didn’t seem to notice. He had a pleased grin fixed on his face as he grinned at Geralt and Geralt found himself confused. Why couldn’t he smell fear on this annoying human in front of him. All he could smell was the sweet sweet scent of honeysuckle and camomile. If anything, the bard smelled curious and excited, which just didn’t make sense. 

And then Geralt had been asked to find and kill the devil of posada and the damned bard had followed him. Even after Geralt had punched him in the gut, Jaskier keeling over on the road but bounding back within minutes and once more following Geralt, plucking that annoying lute every step of the way.

When the Geralt had woken to find himself tied together with the bard behind him he had felt fear run through him. Not for himself but for the young foolish bard who had followed him. And then Jaskier had proven to Geralt how big of an idiot he really was and started to insult the elves that held them captive. The only thing that seemed to really upset the omega was the loss of his lute.

Geralt had made sure to demand a replacement for the lute from the elves after they had freed them. Filavandrel had glared at the Witcher but had relented under the amber glare Geralt gave him. “We don’t want to fight with the Witchers.” Filavandrel had stated, bowing his head softly and handing Geralt a beautifully carved lute.

Jaskier had grinned happily, jumping in joy when Geralt had shoved the lute into the bards hands. “A gift fit for a prince.” He had declared it. And then the insufferable bard had started to compose a song that would have every man, woman and child tossing coins at the Witcher’s head. 

By rights Geralt should have been annoyed but as the bards song (and many other songs afterwards) flung across the Continent he found himself being more and more welcomed in villages, towns and settlements. Less and less people ran from him in fright and Geralt would admit it was nice.

He and Jaskier had met Lambert and Aidan on the path a few months after the incident with the elves and Geralt had seen the clear surprise in Lamberts eyes when he saw the loud and annoying bard that had been following Geralt around. Even more surprised when he had learnt it was Jaskier who was to thank for the Witchers new found acceptance in society. “I would fucking mind that song if people would just stop throwing fucking coins at my head.” lambert had complained as the 4 of them sat aim a tavern drinking ale.

Jaskier’s face had lit up in a mischievous grin and the bard had jumped to his feet, playing Toss a Coin to your Witcher as loud as he possibly could. Geralt had snorted into his ale and Aidan had clapped the bard on the back with a loud laugh when Jaskier had finished his song only to pull a coin out of nowhere and tossed it at Lamberts head.

When winter started to close in, Geralt had felt a melancholy start to settle over him. He would be leaving the path for Kaer Morhen in a week to beat the winter snow and get to safety of the Witchers homestead before the path closed for the winter. Jaskier to had seemed oddly subdued, less talkative as if he to sensed something was coming to an end. Neither said anything for that whole week. Both acutely aware their time together was coming to and end but neither willing to voice that fact. Until the night before Geralt was to separate with the bard. 

“Come with me to Kaer Morhen.” Geralt had growled as Jaskier returned from his performance that night. Jaskier had looked at him, surprise clear in those blue eyes of his. Truthfully Geralt was almost as surprised as Jaskier was at the offer. No human had ever gone to Kaer Morhen in their whole history, save for the boys destined to become Witchers.

Geralt had fully expected for Jaskier to refuse, to say he had other plans for winter. Over the last year he had learnt Jaskier had studied in Oxenfurt and the bard had mentioned in passing that was probably were he would end up that Winter. But Jaskier, who had surprised Geralt from the day he had met the annoying omega, had suddenly lit up. The smile nearly split his face in two and Geralt hummed at the sparkle in Jaskier’s eyes as the bard enthusiastically said “Of course. Imagine all the songs I can get from you Witchers. Oh, I’ll pass into legend before I even hit 20 at this rate.” And Geralt could just smile at the ridiculous colourful man in front of him.

The journey up to Kaer Morhen wasn’t an easy one. It wasn’t designed to be. After Strygga Caslte had been attacked the wolf Witchers had purposefully let the natural undergrowth of the forest conceal the path to their home and incidentally make the path as dangerous as possible. The path was dangerous for a Witcher let alone a human. But despite the lack of food, the poor trail and freezing temperatures, Jaskier remained as bright and talkative as always. The going was slower than it would normally be for just Geralt and Roach, Geralt slowing his speed to adjust for Jaskier, but Geralt didn’t think he had enjoyed the walk back to Kaer Morhen and his life as the Witcher warlord as much as he did that year. Jaskier made everything brighter with his sheer presence and optimism. And every night Geralt and Jaskier would huddle in a shared bedding, Jaskier snuggling close to Geralt to conserve body heat. The alpha part of Geralt purred in delight every morning he woke to Jaskier’s hair in his face and the smell of honeysuckle and camomile surrounding him.

And therein lay the problem Geralt had been trying to ignore since asking Jaskier to come to Kaer Morhen for the winter. Jaskier was not only a human but an omega as well. Witchers were unerringly alpha’s, a byproduct of the potions that made them into Witchers, and Jaskier was an omega. None of the Witchers had ever had any dealings with omegas, save for those they had paid to have sex with in whore houses. Geralt had no idea what to expect with Jaskier. He knew the omega took heat suppressants, Jaskier cheerfully telling him “heats are the most inconvenient things I have ever experienced in my entire life” when Geralt had asked him about the potion he took daily so that wasn’t an issue. And it wasn’t like he would be in a keep full of only Witchers all winter. Yennefer and Triss wintered most years in Kaer Morhen, though Geralt didn’t think the two sorceresses could exactly be counted as human. And of course while Triss was a beta, Yennefer was an alpha as well. So the further they travelled up to Kaer Morhen the more worried Geralt found himself becoming.

All for naught as it turned out when they finally arrived at the keep. Geralt had watched as Jaskier had stared at the keep, eyes wide in excitement as he held the strap of his lute. “It’s magnificent.” Jaskier had grinned broadly at Geralt and Geralt had just grunted at the bard. He supposed it was really, the tall walls and views of the valley below them for miles around. As Geralt looked at the obvious glee in Jaskier’s face, he found himself smiling softly as well. He thinks he might have smiled more in the last day with the bard than he had in his whole life before meeting him.

Word had spread even as far as Kaer Morhen and all the Witchers wintering at the keep (200 in total) knew exactly who the bard was and what he had done for them. The reservations Geralt had expected upon bringing Jaskier here were none existent. All the Witchers save Vesemir greeted the bard with grins and claps on the shoulder. Vesemir was the only Witcher not instantly enthralled by the bard that had no fear of their kind, who sang their praises no less.

But a month into Jaskier’s stay in Kaer Morhen, Geralt had walked into the library to find Jaskier and Vesemir sitting at a table. Vesemir was looking at the bard oddly as Jaskier asked a million questions of the older Witcher, all to do with the different monsters that Witchers faced. Ever since his first meeting with Geralt in Posada Jaskier had tried to keep his songs as truthful to fact as possible (“respect doesn’t make history” Jaskier had told him when Geralt had gruffly told Jaskier “That’s not what happened.”).

The next day, Vesemir had found Geralt sitting in the Witcher war room, a strange look on his face. “That bard isn’t normal human is he?” And Geralt had just shrugged in answer because no Jaskier wasn’t. But that was turning out to be the best thing for them all because if Jaskier was any normal human then this vibrant bright bard would never have entered their lives.

Jaskier and Triss became natural friends, Jaskier spending a lot of his time in the distillery with the sorceress helping to create the Witcher potions and other potions Triss deemed necessary. The Witchers had killed their own mages 2 decades ago now when they had refused to stop performing the trial of grasses. Geralt was ashamed most days to know it had taken them that long to stop the inhumane killing of young children to become Witchers. Since the death of the last mage, one belonging to the Griffin school who had put up more of a fight than expected and burnt half of Kaer Seren down with him, their had been no further Witchers created.

Jaskier and Yennefer’s relationship was more difficult for Geralt to understand. The two seemed to loathe each other, insulting each other at every chance they got. But at the same time they seemed to enjoy each other’s company. Watching the two verbally spar with each other over dinners was both a frightening and awe inspiring experience. And Geralt hadn’t failed to notice the sparkle in both Jaskier and Yennefer’s eyes as they argued.

When winter was finally over, Jaskier had become an integral part in Kaer Morhen. There wasn’t a single Witcher in Kaer Morhen that winter that hadn’t fallen for the charming vibrant nature of the bard. And yet it was still Geralt Jaskier spent every moment he could with. Geralt had lost count how many times over the winter the omega had settled into a seat watching while Geralt waded his way through the paperwork that somehow came with being a warlord. It didn’t seem to matter that the Witchers didn’t actually hold any land but every King, Queen, Lord and lady seemed to see a political advantage of having the Witchers on their side.

On odd occasions Jaskier would help, offering helpful court gossip as he called them to Geralt about what might appease one Lord but anger another. It was surprisingly helpful and Vesemir and Yennefer had dragged Jaskier into their council meetings on more than one occasion.

As the snow began to melt and the path became clear, all the Witchers, Yennefer and Triss waited with bated breath for the bard to say he was leaving. None of them wanted to but Jaskier was a free spirit. They could all tell that the travelling bard craved adventure, craved a need to sing his songs to the Continent and they knew he would leave. But Jaskier didn’t. Jaskier stayed. Or rather, Jaskier came to Geralt and told him in no uncertain terms that “It was time the Witchers had an official bard and I believe I am best placed to do that. To sing the praises of you Witchers from Kaedwen all the way to Nilfgaard.” And Geralt had agreed, not because of the passion in Jaskier’s voice but because the thought of never seeing Jaskier again filled him with more dread than he had ever felt before.

For the next 3 years, Jaskier walked the path with different Witchers from every school, singing the praises of the Witchers and more often than not getting himself into more trouble than he was worth (according to Lambert who had to drag the annoying bard out of a young betas bed before her Father found him there). Geralt’s only regret was that he rarely had the chance to travel the path with his bard. His duties as Warlord kept him in Kaer Morhen most of the year but whenever he made his way down the path Jaskier would suddenly appear, lute strapped to his back a in grinning wildly.

“You are my first muse after all Geralt. And you need me there to keep you out of trouble.” Jaskier had offered in way of explanation. Geralt had snorted at that last part, Lambert was right in his estimate that Jaskier was more trouble than he was worth. The omega always managed to find himself the worst trouble he possibly could and dive straight into it head first.

Not unlike the trouble he had found himself now, Geralt thought soberly. He tried to focus in on the low whispered voices of Yennefer and Triss in the other room but they were speaking to quietly even for his Witcher hearing to pick up on. Instead, Geralt turned his attention to the soft shallow breathing of Jaskier and the soft whiff of honeysuckle coming through the door. At some point in the last hour the throes of his heat had stopped as Geralt could no longer smell the sharp sweet scent of honey running through the room.

Jaskier had stopped taking his suppressants the day they mated. Geralt had thought it was a gift, Jaskier sharing with him something which the omega had never shared with anyone else in his life. Not Geralt knew it to be a curse. If Jaskier had never stopped, had continued taking those suppressants would the Nilfgaardians have raped him. Would Jaskier be lying as injured and broken as he was now. Geralt thought not but then he would never know the answer to that question.

Looking back on his life with Jaskier, Geralt now realised he had had feelings for the bard from the day they met. It was the only explanation of why Geralt had let that annoying bard stay with him as long as he had, and every moment he spent in the company of Jaskier he had known his feelings were growing stronger and stronger. But still Geralt had refused, stubbornly to admit it. Much to the annoyance of every Witcher in Kaer Morhen. They had all sighed in relief the day Geralt and Jaskier finally admitted their feelings for each other.

It had been an ordinary Spring day, Geralt had gone down the path to clear a nest of Wyverns that had come close to Kaer Morhen. A good chance to clear his head. Jaskier had been on the path for the last 2 months with Letho and Aukes (from the school of the Viper) and Yennefer had angrily told the Witcher he needed to blow off some steam. Apparently Geralt had been spending the last 2 months since their bard had walked down the path brooding and glaring at anyone who came within spitting distance.

It should have been an easy job to finish, clear the Wyverns out, he probably didn’t even need to kill any of them. Except when in Geralt’s life had anything been easy. The Wyverns had cleared out easily enough but not because of the Witcher. No, they had run from the monster that until that moment Geralt hadn’t even been aware of. A Kikimore that had managed to knock Geralt to the ground, slashing its claws down his back before Geralt had been able to turn to face it. Geralt had managed to kill the beast but by the end of it he was bleeding heavily from the wound on his back, covered in mud and dirt.

Geralt hadn’t realised how far from Kaer Morhen he had travelled until he finally returned, collapsing on the threshold from the blood loss. When he woke up he was lying on his bed, torso bandaged and Jaskier sitting at his bed side. The omega’s head was resting in his folded arms, jaskier breathing softly in sleep. Later Geralt found out he had been unconscious for nearly 2 days, Jaskier not having left his side since. Jaskier had been the one to find him collapsed on the steps of Kaer Morhen, having been walking up the path on his return home and spotting the slumped white-haired Witcher. Jaskier had hauled him into Kaer Morhen, shouting for Yennefer and Triss as he went. 

“You’re awake.” Jaskier had bolted up, seeming to sense Geralt’s eyes on him as he blinked sleep it of his blue eyes. Geralt could see the creases of worry on his face and relief in his eyes. “Fuck, Geralt I thought you were dead.” There were tears in Jaskier’s eyes as he spoke. “I’ll get Triss. Are you hurt? Thirsty? I can get you something to eat?”

“No.” Geralt grunted. The potion Triss had no doubt given him had done its job and as he pushed himself up on the bed he didn’t even wince, the stitches used to sew he skin only pulling slightly.

“Don’t move.” Jaskier chastised, hands coming to shove Geralt back down on the mattress. The omegas hands rested on Geralt’s chest and both omega and alpha froze, faces mere inches from the others. And then jaskier was leaning forwards, lips pressing against Geralt’s and Geralt was wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s body, pulling the omega close. Geralt would never forget that kiss, the feeling of Jaskier’s warm plush lips against his own or the almost shy expression that crossed Jaskier’s face.

They were near insuperable since then and then nearly a year later, Jaskier had come to him blushing like a maiden as he asked Geralt to mate with him. Geralt had been worried, worried that his bard was throwing away his precious mortal life away to love a Witcher. Geralt couldn’t give him children. Geralt’s profession as both a Witcher and Warlord meant his life was always in danger. Geralt could die and leave Jaskier with no one. But Jaskier, always knowing what troubled Geralt before Geralt himself knew, had just smiled kissing Geralt’s lips softly. “Silly Witcher, I don’t care about any of that. I love you.”

They had mated during Jaskier’s first heat. According to Jaskier, he hadn’t had a heat in 5 years and was nervous. That night had been the best of Geralt’s life, Jaskier had been pliant in his arms. Whimpering and moaning and kissing Geralt as much as he could, blue eyes wide with lust and want. And Geralt had felt lust rush through him, knot burying into Jaskier as he bit down on Jaskier’s scent mark at the same time his omega bit down on his. By the end of the 3 days, they were both soaked with sweat, exhausted and so so happy.

Geralt brought a hand up to touch the faint scar sitting at the base of his neck and felt his knees give as he dropped to the floor. He could faintly feel Jaskier through the mark, could feel the pain and fear surrounding his mate and Geralt felt helpless. He couldn’t save Jaskier and now he couldn’t even comfort his mate. Fuck. 

Witchers had never mated before, at least according to history. This wasn’t a surprise to any of them because well, Witchers weren’t generally tolerated by humans let enough loved enough for a human to want to mate with them. Until Jaskier. As the years went by, Geralt and the Witchers learnt a lot about what it meant to be mated to a Witcher. There were the obvious things, Jaskier and Geralt were near insuperable. Sickeningly in love as Lambert stated. Geralt and Jaskier could feel each other through the bond they had, not thoughts but the base emotions of their mate. They always knew when the other was upset or scared or happy. But something that none of them had expected was the lengthening of Jaskier’s life. Jaskier and Geralt had mated when the omega was 24 years old and he hadn’t aged a day since then.

Except not aging didn’t matter any more because Jaskier could still die. Geralt had never fully thought of that simple fact since learning Jaskier wasn’t gaining until finding Jaskier tied to that bed in Nilfgaard. Jaskier could have died. Could still die.

A sudden urgent need flooded the alpha and Geralt found himself jumping to his feet, hand flying to the doorknob. He needed to see Jaskier, needed to know his mate was ok. Needed to know Jaskier was alive. But before he could open the door, Yennefer opened it. Tiredness lay heavy on her face as she looked at Geralt. 

“You can come in.” She said, voice soft and Geralt didn’t waste a second as he pushed past the violet eyed sorceress. 

Jaskier was covered by a thick blanket, bandages peaking on his torso from where the blanket had fallen down. “We’ll leave you alone. He’ll sleep for a few hours yet.” Triss spoke softly, squeezing Geralt’s arm in comfort as her gaze lingered on the omega lying unconscious in the bed.

Geralt didn’t say a word, just settled onto the chair, taking one of Jaskier’s limp hands in his own. Gently he brushed his mates hair from his face, glad to find the fever that had raged through him nearly all gone. As Geralt sat there watching Jaskier sleep all he could think of was how drastically he had failed the most important person in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of rape and violence in this chapter. Please don't read if uncomfortable.

Jaskier didn’t even consider the consequences as he shouted for Ciri to run, turning around to face the oncoming Nilfgaardian soldiers. He saw the hesitance in Ciri’s eyes, saw Ciri’s hand edging towards were the Witcher sword Geralt had given her only 2 years ago would always sit. But that sword wasn’t there, not brought to Cintra as they were here for a celebration, not for fighting or training. And even if she had her sword and even as good as she was, there was no way she would be able to fight against 10 heavily armed fully trained soldiers. So Jaskier gave her a soft smile, hoping the fear running through him wasn’t betrayed in his eyes as he gently pushed her back up the corridor and away from the oncoming soldiers.

Jaskier liked to think the Witchers would have been impressed. He had never been a fighter, never wanted to be one, but as he stood blocking the way up the corridor and towards Ciri Jaskier fought with everything he had. He managed to kick the first on in the balls, leaving him doubled over groaning in pain, dodging past a wild blow of a soldiers fist as they ran at him. A third one tried to push past him so Jaskier launched himself bodily on the man, tackling him to the ground.

The tangled of limbs caused by Jaskier tackling the solider to the ground caused a forth to trip over them, Jaskier feeling tears prick in his eyes as the soldiers feet kicked against his ribs trying to run past. And then arms were grabbing him. Jaskier fought against the hold, struggling madly against the two arms holding him. He managed to dislodge one arm but a sharp hit to his stomach had Jaskier groaning in pain, doubling over as the two soldiers tightened their hold. And then a sharp hit to the side of his left temple and everything went black.

The first thing Jaskier thought when he woke in a pitch-black room, arms tied together with roped in front of him, was where was Ciri. Listening he couldn’t hear anything save his own ragged breathing in the pitch black room and after a few moments he let out a sigh of relief. Ciri wasn’t here. With any luck she had found Geralt. Geralt would keep her safe.

Geralt. Fuck. Geralt would be worried, beyond worried when he returned from the fighting to find Jaskier gone. Through the mating mark, Jaskier could feel the distant feeling of distress coming from his mate. But he couldn’t think about that now. As much as it always hurt Jaskier to know Geralt was upset or distressed, he couldn’t’ think about that now. Not when he was currently locked in a dark room, hands tied in front of him. At least he thought it was dark.

Getting up from the floor required more effort than he’s ever realised before. His whole body was numb and there was a sharp pain coming from his ribs. As he stood, hand on the wall to steady himself Jaskier forced the room to stop spinning, hand coming to his temple where he felt dried crusted blood from where the men had hit him. Gritting through the pain, Jaskier forced himself to walk the full length of the cell, feeling against the wall. It was tiny, only allowing him to move 4 paces on every side. When he found the door, he tried moving the lock but all it did was make a clanging sound that echoed off the walls. Groaning in defeat, Jaskier dropped to the ground, back pressed against the hard stone wall and dropped his head in his hands. It would be fine. Geralt would find him.

The first 2 days nothing happened. At least Jaskier thought it was 2 days. In his dark cell with no window he had no idea if a few minutes had passed or hours. The only thing that let him have any idea of the time was the food the guards gave him. A small loaf of stale mouldy bread and a mug of water twice a day. Jaskier wrinkled his nose the first time the door opened and a grim-faced man threw the loaf at him, placing the mug on the floor. He’d barely registered the door open, only just getting to his feet as the guard once more banged the door shut behind him.

Jaskier forced himself to eat the bread and drink the water, knowing he needed his strength. If he had a chance to escape he would take it. Drinking the water made certain embarrassing needs come to light and eventually Jaskier was forced to walk to the corner of his cell and piss on the floor before he wet himself. The sharp smell of urine filled his nose as he fastened his breeches up and Jaskier felt the embarrassment flush up. He wondered if that was how they intended to torment him, embarrassment and boredom.

He spent the next few hours before his next meal watching the light filtering through the crack of the bottom of his door. It was barely any light but it was enough to make it so Jaskier wasn’t sitting in complete pitch blackness. He could faintly hear the sounds of laughter filtering through his door. So there was more than one person there.

The next time the guards came he was ready. He saw the shadow blocking the light from the crack of his door and was on his feet as the clang of keys filtered through the heavy wood. As the door opened Jaskier launched himself forwards, crashing into the man who hadn’t expected his prisoner to try and escape. They both toppled to the ground and Jaskier forced back the pain that ran through his ribs as he jumped to his feet. The man below him was to slow and Jaskier jumped to his feet, quickly running up a corridor. And straight into the guard room. 

Jaskier stopped dead as 5 men looked at him. Fear clawed through him but Jaskier pushed it aside, turning on his heel with every intention of running back the way he had come and finding another way out. Instead he ran two paces and collided with the man he had just tackled to the floor. Hands grabbed at his arms and Jaskier struggled, feet kicking wildly out a someone grabbed him from behind.

“Hold still omega.” The guard holding him from behind growled, hands tangling in Jaskier’s hair and forcing his head back. Jaskier whimpered and then shouted in pain as someone punched him in his aching ribs. Groaning, Jaskier went limp in his captures arms as he was punched again.

Fists reigned down on him as the guard behind him held him in place and all Jaskier could do was whimper and groan in pain. The hold to tight for him to struggle. When they’d finally finished Jaskier was barely conscious, having to be dragged back to his cell. They pushed him in, Jaskier collapsing on the floor.

“If you tell us where the mutant bastards are keeping Cirilla we’ll let you go omega.” A voice stated at the door. “If you don’t then we will torture you for that information.”

Jaskier turned his head back, finding the man leaning uninterested against the wall. “Fuck you.” He spat. The man stared at him once before nodding his head.

“You’ll live to regret that omega.” And with those words the door slammed shut and Jaskier collapsed boneless to the ground, tears flowing down his face. Jaskier just prayed that Geralt would come soon because while he would never betray Ciri the thought of being tortured for information he would never give sent fear spiking through his heart.

In the end they never did have the chance to torture him. It was funny, up until this point Jaskier had never given much thought to if his guards were alphas betas or even omegas. He hadn’t cared. As far as he was concerned they could be whoever the fuck they wanted to be because regardless of who they were they were still holding him captive. Now, as he felt the begins of his heat grip him Jaskier finally started to pay attention to the scents of the men holding him captive.

It started off small, Jaskier thought he might have been held for 3 days but honestly, he had no idea. The meals they gave him were sporadic and he could have sworn that he had only just eating when they were throwing the bread at him again. Of course, it could have been the fact Jaskier was having a little trouble staying conscious. The head injury he’d received when they’d first taken him making him feel tired and dizzy most times and the pain in his ribs was only bearable when he was asleep.

The first feeling of his heat approaching was the need to nest. Usually Jaskier would spend his heats in Kaer Morhen, stealing the blankets and furs on his and Geralt’s bed and building his nest in the corner of his room. The days leading up to his heat he and Geralt would sit, wrapped together in each others warmth, enjoying the feeling of the soft blanket walls Jaskier had created. As the urge started to fill him now, becoming unbearable as he craved the feeling of not only soft materials under his fingers but the feel of Geralt wrapped around him, Jaskier felt fear and dread fill him.

He knew his heat was coming, had known coming to Cintra would be a close call in terms of his heat. But he’d been convinced he’d had time and even if he hadn’t he’d reasoned he could have spent his heat in Cintra or Yennefer and Triss could have portalled him back to Kaer Morhen. Never once did it cross his mind to take suppressants. Ever since he and Geralt had mated Jaskier hadn’t taken the suppressant potion, had wanted to share the intimate moments of his heat with Geralt every time. Now he wished he had.

As the first hints of the fever filled him, the scent of honey slowing wafting around the room, Jaskier smelt the sharp stink of alpha lust from outside his room. Standing on shaking legs, Jaskier closed his hands into fists. Seeking out the comfort of Geralt through the bond, Jaskier let himself feel the resolution of his mate fill him. He would not let these men touch him without a fight.

It was pitifully easy for the alphas to force Jaskier down. Already weakened from his previous injuries and limbs turning to jelly in the face of his heat, the guards easily pinned and carried Jaskier kicking and screaming from the room. Their eyes were glazed with lustful hunger, the heavy scent of arousal in the air. Jaskier fought back as heavy manacles were tightened around his wrist and ankles, limbs stretched taunt on a thin dirty old mattress.

He could feel the slick running down his thighs, a natural by product of his heat and Jaskier sobbed. He had never shared his heat with anyone but Geralt. Had been taking his suppressants since arriving in Oxenfurt. Never had he considered how much his heats weakened him. The few he had before meeting Geralt had happened in the safety of a locked room, with blankets and furs he could wrap himself in as the heats fever wracked through him. The heats he shared with Geralt were memorable, full of love and passion and comfort. Geralt would always hold him close, wipe away the sweat as Jaskier’s body became so heavy he could barely move a finger.

Now as Jaskier lay, struggling as hard as he could against the bonds holding him tight, the scent of alphas surrounding him as his body reacted tot heir arousal Jaskier felt pain and anger and fear fill him. His clothes were torn away and before the cold air had even hit him an alpha had entered his unprepared hole. The slick produced by his body helped lessen the intrusion but Jaskier still screamed as his arse felt like it was being ripped open. And then the alphas hands were bruising his hips under their hold and the man was pounding into him. 

Jaskier sobbed, struggling against the chains, begging them to stop. They didn’t listen. Jaskier doubted they even heard him, even if he told them what they had been so eager to know before he doubted they would even pay him any heed. And then the feeling of a blunt pressure being pushed into his hole, expanding in him as he was filled with the man’s seed, had Jaskier whiting out from panic and pain. The alpha had knotted him. An alpha who wasn’t Geralt, his belove white=haired brooding Geralt. 

Jaskier didn’t remember the rest.

…………

“Fuck.” Geralt growled, seeing Jaskier’s moaning and struggling become greater. Jaskier had been shifting in the bed for the last few hours, soft whimpers and moans filling him as whatever nightmares his mind had conjured up ran riot in him.

Triss had been in the room an hour ago, concern and pain written on her face as she gently stroked Jaskier’s sweat soaked hair from his face. “He’s waking up.” She said softly.

It had been 2 days since they had got Jaskier back and Jaskier had been lying near comatose in his bed since. Geralt had done his everything he could to keep his mate comfortable in that time but the longer Jaskier remained unconscious the worse his fear became. He’d gently dripped water onto Jaskier’s cracked and dried lips, to stop Jaskier from dehydrating. And under the direction of Triss and Yennefer, Geralt had gently washed Jaskier’s body of the dirt and blood still clinging to him, near to tears as he worked the damp cloth over the bruises covering Jaskier. The bruises on his hips and inner thighs were the worst. A physical testament to what had happened. 

Yennefer and Triss had shown Geralt how to wrap the bandages covering Jaskier’s ribs and apply the salve to the worst injuries (a large cut to his temple, the bruises and cuts covering his wrists and ankles, and his bruised and broken ribs). Yennefer and Triss’ magic had gone a long way to heal Jaskier’s body, speeding up the healing process and Geralt knew in a month the physical injuries would be none existent. But no one could do anything for the emotional scars those bastards had left on Jaskier.

“What can I do?” Geralt knew his voice held panic as he gently caressed the hand he held tightly in his own. 

Triss turned dark brown eyes to his, a sad smile on her face as she spoke. “Just be there for him.”

So that was what Geralt had done. He hadn’t moved an inch from Jaskier’s side as the bard slowly forced his way past the nightmares haunting him and back to consciousness. A sharp groan from Jaskier had Geralt turning his eyes from the hand he had been holding for what seemed hours to Jaskier’s face. Jaskier’s blue eyes, blurry in confusion and fear looked at Geralt. 

As Geralt quickly moved to Jaskier’s head he saw his omega flinch violently. Jaskier’s breaths which had already been sharp and uneven turned even worse now. Geralt watched, panic flaring in him as Jaskier struggled to take a breath in. Jaskier’s arms pulled up, wobbling under Jaskier’s weight as Jaskier tried to push himself away from Geralt. 

“Jask, it’s ok. It’s me. It’s Geralt.” Geralt tried, panic flaring in him as he held up his hands, freezing still under Jaskier’s panicked eyes.

“G…Great?” Jaskier’s voice was croaky and unsure as he spoke but recognition slowly filled his eyes.

“Yes, it’s me Jaskier. You’re ok.” Geralt grunted and then Jaskier’s face seemed to fall. Tears flowed down Jaskier’s cheeks and suddenly he was sobbing uncontrollably, breathing hitching as his body shook under the force of the tears.

Without thinking, Geralt jumped onto the bed, gathering Jaskier in his arms and holding him close. Jaskier’s head came to bury in his neck, tears dropping down Geralt’s back as Jaskier’s hands clutched helplessly against Geralt’s shirt. “It’s ok Jask.” Geralt said, even though how the fuck it could be ok when his mate, the happiest most optimistic pain his arse in the world was currently sobbing uncontrollably into his chest Geralt had no fucking clue. “Just breath. Follow my breathing.”

He had to do something to stop Jaskier’s hyperventilating breathing so Geralt forced his own breath to slow down, praying his words got through to Jaskier. They must have done as slowly, so fucking slowly, Jaskier’s breathing started to even out as he matched Geralt’s slow and steady breaths. After nearly half an hour, Jaskier slowly lifted his head up, breathing still ragged and uneven but no where fucking close to what it had been.

“Sorry.” Jaskier breathed, tears still falling down his bruised face. Geralt gently brushed a tear away, other hand coming to rub tentative circles on Jaskier’ back.

“Don’t apologise.” Geralt growled. “This isn’t your fault.”

Another tear fell down Jaskier’s face and Geralt was scared Jaskier would start sobbing again. “Is this a dream?” Jaskier breathed and Geralt violently shook his head, coming down to kiss Jaskier’s head. Jaskier chuckled, the sound strained in his throat. “Feels like a dream.”

“It’s not a dream Jask.” Geralt assured, needing to convince Jaskier he was safe. “You’re safe. You’re back in Kaer Morhen. The bastards that did this there all dead. I promise, no one will hurt you again.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Jaskier whispered, eyes closing as he relaxed further into Geralt’s hold. And then Jaskier was pulling backwards, fear and panic on his face and pain obvious in his eyes. “Ciri, fuck Ciri. They were after Ciri.”

“We know.” Geralt grunted, gently pushing Jaskier back down to resting against his chest. He needed to hold his omega close, needed to feel Jaskier alive and ok against him. The closeness seemed to comfort Jaskier as well as some of the tension fell away from Jaskier as he collapsed further into Geralt’s hold. “She’s safe. No one hurt her. You saved her.”

And then Jaskier was sobbing again. Geralt gently held Jaskier, kissing his sweat soaked brown hair, rubbing circles on his back as Jaskier sobbed against him. When he was finally done, or he just had no more tears to shed, Jaskier slumped against Geralt’s chest. “Go to sleep.” Geralt hummed, kissing Jaskier’s head softly.

“I’m scared.” Jaskier whispered, voice muffled from where it was hidden in Geralt’s chest.

“I’ll be here. You’re safe.” Geralt whispered, helping Jaskier to lie down on the bed, careful not to jostle his injuries.

When Jaskier was lying down, he looked up at Geralt with wide blue eyes. Jaskier’s hand came to tug at Geralt to lie down with him. Trying not to wince at the weakness in Jaskier’s pull, Geralt lay down arms coming automatically to surround Jaskier as his mate curled into Geralt’s broad chest.

“My protector.” Jaskier whispered, breathing evening as he fell into sleep. As Geralt lay with his arms wrapping Jaskier close he couldn’t help but feel the lie in Jaskier’s words. How could he be Jaskier’s protector when he hadn’t been there to stop Jaskier from being taken and raped to begin with.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mention of past rape in this chapter.

“I’ll be fine.” Jaskier smiled at Geralt as the white haired Witcher stared at him with apprehension clear on his face. “Triss said it would be good for me to move around anyway.” Jaskier grinned. He was sitting with his feet dangling on the bed. Geralt had helped him struggle into a clean chemise and breeches and had had to pull Jaskier’s boots on for him, Jaskier’s battered ribs protesting the bend down to do it himself.

“She said short walks. Not go down the springs.” Geralt growled, hand hovering by Jaskier’s arm as Jaskier pushed himself up to his feet. He’d been confined to bed for the last week and the inactivity was starting to make him stir crazy. And if he was honest the hours of doing nothing but sitting in bed had left him with little to do but think of those alphas tying him down and forcing themselves on him.

“Jask.” Geralt growled in warning and exasperation as Jaskier’s legs almost didn’t lock in place and left the omega falling to the ground. Jaskier gasped a little, pain flying through his ribs as Geralt held onto his arm, holding him upright. “This is a bad idea. We can go another day.” Geralt growled, trying to push Jaskier back to the bed.

“No, Geralt I need a wash.” Jaskier argued, forcing his legs to take his weight and then pulling himself from Geralt’s hold.

“I can wash you here. Or we can get a bath brought up.” Geralt tried but Jaskier shook his head.

“No. I just...I need to do this. Please.” Jaskier knew he was begging as he turned blue eyes over to Geralt, pleading with his mate to let him at least try to do this. He couldn’t sit back in that bed. Couldn’t go back to the inactivity and helplessness he’d felt for the last week. Ever since Nilfgaard had tied him to that bed and fucking raped him during his heat, really. Fuck, Jaskier just wanted to think of anything but that ingrained feeling of helplessness. And he needed to wash himself, to soak in the hot springs and wash away the feeling of those men’s hands all over him.

“Fine.” Geralt relented, not being able to say no to his mate when Jaskier looked at him like this.

“Thank you.” Jaskier breathed, letting Geralt wrap a gentle hand around his middle to assist him in walking.

Just walking out of the room was a challenge and Jaskier was starting to seriously reconsider his decision to move. But no, he had told Geralt he needed to do this and he did. For his own sake, to prove Nilfgaard hadn’t completely ruined him.

It was mid morning, the keep quiet as the Witchers trained outside. Jaskier had the sneaking suspicion Geralt had made it clear to the other Witchers that they were to stay out fo the halls as he took Jaskier down to the hot springs. Geralt hadn’t let him have any visitors save Yennefer and Triss for the last week. His ridiculous overprotective mate afraid that to many visitors would upset Jaskier.

In a way Jaskier was grateful. He hadn’t been allowed a mirror but from the looks on Yennefer and Triss’ and Geralt’s face he knew he looked bad. Triss had said he’d broken several ribs and most of his body was covered in nasty bruises that would usually take weeks to heal. Thanks to the sorceresses magic though the bruises and aches that came with them were drastically faded. They’d be gone within another week. His ribs would take a little longer to heal and Jaskier cursed that fact as every breath he drew and every move he made as Geralt walked him down the corridor made the pain more and more acute.

But that wasn’t the worst pain. The worst pain came from where the men had raped him. Jaskier was aware he was walking with a limp, the damage they had done being substantial enough the pain to still be there a week after Geralt had saved him. Jaskier honestly didn’t know what state he’d been in when Geralt had found him. Of the little bits that came back to him, mostly in the form of nightmares, all Jaskier could remember was the searing pain and the feel of something wet dripping down his thighs. 

He’d been having those dreams since waking and every night he would wake gasping for air, sobbing uncontrollably. Geralt was always there, arms wrapping around him and gently rocking him until Jaksier got himself under control. And every time it happened guilt raged through Jaskier. 

“Jask?” Geralt asked, amber eyes fixing on Jaskier’s blue ones pain and fear in them. Jaskier blinked at him, confusion in his face. He didn’t remember stopping but now he thought about it his breathing was a little ragged and his whole body was one continuous painful ache. “I’ll take you back to the room. Get a few of the Witchers to bring a bath up.” Geralt growled.

“No. I’m fine, just needed to catch my breath.” Jaskier tried to smile but the pain flaring in his ribs every time he breathed wasn’t letting him.

“You don’t have to push yourself Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice had tuned soft, or as soft as the mans voice ever went.

“I hate being useless.” Jaskier whispered. He was leaning against the wall but now Geralt wrapped arms around him and pulled him close. Jaskier let his head fall against Geralt’s neck, tears running down his face. And fuck, Jaskier never cried as much as this, he’d probably cried more in the last week than he had since meeting Geralt and he hated it. Hated that his emotions were so out of control.

“Your not useless. You’re hurt.” Geralt growled, gently pressing a kiss to the mark on Jaskier’s neck. Jaskier shivered, relaxing into Geralt’s hold as the scent of Geralt covered him. Warm and comforting, the slight hint of onion coming through that spicy alpha scent.

Being covered in the spicy arousal of alphas. How many Jaskier didn’t know. Struggling desperately at the bonds holding him down as that scent surrounded him. An alpha licking at the mark that Geralt had made as he knotted Jaksier tying them together for what felt like hours. Jaskier chocked back a sob as he fought to push those memories aside. Bad enough that they haunted his dreams he couldn’t face seeing them when he was awake as well.

“That’s it.” Geralt growled, wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s legs and gently picking Jaskier up. “You’re not ready for this.” And what could Jaskier say against that as he choked back sobs as memories hit him from every angle.

.......

“How is he?” Eskel asked, scarred face contorted in worry as he and Geralt stood in the corridor watching Letho and Aukes carry a bath into the room. Jaskier was sitting in the bed, smiling brightly but anyone could see the pain in those blue eyes. Geralt hated when Jaskier did this, pretended everything was fine when it wasn’t. He’d been doing this since waking up.

“Not good.” Geralt snapped. What the fuck did Eskel think Jaskier was going to be. Good. Fuck, he’ been raped during his fucking heat. Geralt knew from the last 20 years, 38 bloody heats shared with Jaskier, that Jaskier wouldn’t have been able to fight back. The heats did something to Jaskier body, making him limp and compliant under Geralt’s fingers. Fuck, he’d been helpless when those bastards had raped him. Made all the more helpless being tied to that fucking bed.

“Geralt, we’re just worried.” Eskel spoke, placing a comforting hand on Geralt’s arms.

“What the fuck do I do?” Geralt suddenly asked, looking at the older Witcher in panic. Eskel had always been the most level headed of them. Like Vesemir, calm and collected in a crisis. Geralt couldn’t help but think Eskel would have made a better leader than him but Eskel had just grinned and said he was happy being the second in command. 

“I don’t know.” Eskel replied, voice filled with guilt as he said those words. “There isn’t anything we can do except be there for him.” And fuck Geralt knew that but being there wasn’t enough. Not when Jaskier woke panicked and terrified after only a few hours of sleep. “You need some rest.”

“I can’t leave him.” Geralt growled before Eskel could finish. He couldn’t leave Jaskier. He had t be there for his mate.

“Geralt, Jaskier won’t want you to exhaust yourself. If he was in his right mind now he’d be pushing you to get some rest. Get a bath.” Eskel chuckled, wrinkling his nose softly.

“I can’t leave him alone.” Geralt growled. Since arriving back at Kaer Morhen Jaskier hadn’t been alone once and Geralt shuddered to think what might happen if Jaskier fell into the memories of what had happened and no one was there to watch him.

“You won’t. Yennefer or Triss can sit them. One of the Witchers. Ciri. You’d have no shortage of volunteers for sitting with Jaskier and looking after him while you get some rest. We want to be here for him to.” And Geralt knew that. Knew him banning the others from Jaskier’s bedside had hurt them but Geralt was terrified that Jaskier would be hurt again. He knew his brothers would never hurt Jaskier, they loved the bard as much as Geralt did. Hell, Jaskier was there bard as much as Geralt’s. Pack. But the protective side of him that had been taking charge since loosing Jaskier wouldn’t let anyone come near his mate unless absolutely necessary. He’d have stopped Triss and Yennefer coming in if not for the fact Jaskier needed them to help heal him.

“I’ll think about it.” Geralt managed and Eskel nodded, clapping a hand on Geralt’s shoulder in comfort.

Letho and Aukes had finished placing the bath down, Lambert and Aidan already coming up with the buckets of steaming water and filling it. Geralt moved away from Eskel, coming to sit next to Jaskier who immediately relaxed into his side. Jaskier had always been an affectionate person. Always needing hugs and love, and simple touches but for the last week he had alternated from hating Geralt’s touch on him one moment and only being able to settle wrapped in his alpha’s hold.

“Thank you.” Jaskier managed, trying for a bright smile but only managing a grimace instead as Lambert and Aidan finished filling the bath. Letho and Aukes were leaning against the doorway, looking at Jaskier with concern and Eskel hadn’t moved from where he and Geralt were talking. The 5 alphas in the room were making Geralt jumpy and protective but Jaskier didn’t seem to mind. At least outwardly. Fuck, usually Geralt had a hard time making Jaskier shut up but his mate had become more quiet than him this last week.

“You need anything else Jaskier you shout.” Eskel said and Jaskier nodded, smiling in gratitude at the scarred Witcher. Slowly the 5 Witchers walked out, Lambert hovering at the door, frown on his face before slowly closing it behind him.

When the door was closed, Jaskier sagged further into the bed, leaning into Geralt’s hold. “I just want everything to go back to normal.” Jaskier whispered and Geralt wanted to say it would, that Jaskier would be jumping around with over excited energy again before they knew it. But he couldn’t lie to Jaskier, not when he knew nothing would be the same for them again. Jaskier wouldn’t just miraculously recover from this, it would take time. So instead Geralt hummed, softly kissing Jaskier’s head.

.......

The bath was perfect. As Jaskier sunk into it, a soft moan of pleasure came from him. He heard Geralt’s huff of a laugh behind the screen his mate had put up to give him some privacy. Jaskier hadn’t known how to ask Geralt for privacy so was thankful when he hadn’t had to. Geralt had simply helped him out of his clothes (minus small clothes) and bandages and hummed.

The screen wasn’t much of a barrier but the fact it his Jaskier’s naked body from view made the omega feel a gratitude he never thought he would. He’d never been ashamed of his body before, couldn’t really be when the only baths in Kaer Morhen where the hot springs which were nearly always full of naked shouting Witchers. And he had certainly never been embarrassed around Geralt. Even before they had admitted their feelings to each other Jaskier had been comfortable walking around their small camp fire on the path barely clothed as his own clothes dried. And he’d seen Geralt naked more times than he could count before they mated. It was something he loved, gently washing the muck and grime from Geralt’s hair as his mate sat in the bath.

But now, all he could feel was shame as he stripped of his small clothes and hesitantly got into the bath. It was difficult getting in and Jaskier knew he would have to swallow his fear and ask Geralt’s help to get out but he was sure he would be fine by then.

Eskel had brought up a bar of the camomile smelling soup Jaskier always used and Jaskier rubbed the bar as thoroughly as he could over every inch of his body. Until now he’d been surviving off hand washes and it had done nothing to remove the constant feeling of hands touching him. He knew the smell of the alpha’s who had raped him were gone. After Jaskier had been awake 2 days, Geralt had asked his permission to scent him and Jaskier had readily agreed. Geralt had scented Jaskier so thoroughly Jaskier had been limp in relaxation and surrounded by the heady scent of his alpha. it was probably the only night Jaskier had sleep soundly from dusk to dawn with no nightmares to disturb him. But even knowing he smelt only of Geralt and himself didn’t stop Jaksier from smelling the faint stink fo those alpha’s arousals.

It was in his head, Jaskier knew that. Just like he knew the feeling of hands traveling his body and the feel that there was something pressed in his arse was in his head. But he couldn’t stop those thoughts. Couldn’t get the thought of those alphas touching him, covering him with their scent, knotting him out of his head.

“Fuck.” Jaskier swore when he looked down at his legs. He’d been scrubbing his inner thighs as hard as possibly could, desperate to get that feeling off and they were now red raw and tender.

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s voice filtered through the screens. 

Jaskier had the words to tell his alpha that he was fine on the tip of his tongue but as he opened his mouth to say them he couldn’t. He couldn’t keep lying to Geralt. Couldn’t keep saying he was fine when he knew he wasn’t. ‘Jaskier?” There was panic now in Geralt’s voice and Jaskier knew the only reason Geralt hadn’t pushed past the screen was because he didn’t sense any distress coming from his omega.

“Geralt...I...can you come in. Please.” Jaskier’s voice broke on the last one and he stubbornly wiped away tears that were coming from his face.

“What’s wrong?” Geralt demanded, amber eyes filled with panic as he looked over Jaskier, checking for any injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“No...I’m...I just...I don’t know.” Jaskier finished, dropping his head to stare at the steaming water surrounding him. Or rather, cold water now. He shivered a little, not having realised until that moment that the water had started to go cold and he wondered how long he’d been sitting here.

Seeming to sense his discomfort, Geralt appeared at his side. His hands made the sign for Igni and Jaskier felt the water start to warm around him. Geralt didn’t say a word as he gently took the soap from Jaskier’s hand and started to gently wash it over Jaskier’s skin. He was careful to avoid Jaskier’s upper thighs and cock and Jaskier felt tears leak down his eyes as he realised that Geralt was afraid of upsetting Jaskier. 

Jaskier sat in silence as Geralt gently washed his whole body clean. When the soap was nearly done, Geralt used the last parts of it to gently rub through Jaskier’s brown hair. Jaskier hummed, body relaxing under the gentle caresses of Geralt’s fingers against his scalp. “Mind your eyes.” Geralt hummed, before pouring a cup of water over Jaskier’s hair, washing the soap away. Jaskier hummed, keeping his eyes closed as Geralt settled at the back to the bath, fingers still entwined in Jaskier’s hair.

They sat like that until he water started to cool once more and Jaskier shivered. “Do you need help?” Geralt asked. Jaskier wanted to say no, that he could do it himself but the hot water had relaxed his muscles to the point where Jaskier didn’t have the energy to try and force himself to stand. Geralt hummed, gently dropping his arms into the water and wrapped them around Jaskier’s legs.

He placed Jaskier gently no the floor, Jaksier using an arm on the edge of the bath to steady himself as Geralt brought a towel and clean change of clothes for him. Jaskier managed to dry himself and pull the chemise and breeches on with only a little of Geralt’s help.

When they were finished, Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s waist and gently helped him back to the bed. Settled down, Jaskier pulled Geralt to sit with him, snuggling close to his alpha and breathing deeply. As he turned his head up to look at Geralt guilt pulled at him. Geralt looked exhausted. His eyes held a deep rooted pain and exhaustion in them, body slumped in the way it only ever did when Geralt had been taxing himself to much. Jaskier felt guilt well up because Geralt had been pushing himself because of him.

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier whispered. “You should get some rest. I’ll be fine here.” Jaskier knew he wouldn’t be. The only thing keeping him from full scale panic attacks when waking from his nightmares had been Geralt’s presence but if a panic attack was the price to pay for Geralt to have some rest then so be it.

“Don’t apologise.” Geralt growled, amber eyes blazing as he looked at Jaskier. “Fuck, Jask if anyone should be apologising it should be me.” Jaskier looked at Geralt with confusion. Geralt apologise, for what? Geralt had done nothing but help Jaskier.

“Geralt, you don’t need to apologise.”

“I should have been there.” Geralt growled, anger in his voice now. “Fuck, Jaskier I should have stopped them taking you. I should have fucking been there.”

Ignoring the complaint of his aching ribs Jaskier pushed himself to seating, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s broad shoulders and pulling Geralt to rest on his chest. “You didn’t know Geralt. You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have stayed, should have made sure you and Ciri were protected. You shouldn’t have been int hat fucking position.” Geralt growled. Jaskier gently ran fingers through his alphas hair, relief flooding him as Geralt slowly relaxed in the omega’s hold.

“I don’t blame you Geralt. You did nothing wrong. You saved me.” Jaskier whispered, dropping his head to kiss Geralt’s hair. “Please don’t blame yourself.”

“I hate what they did to you.” Geralt growled, pulling himself from Jaskier’s hold and coming to rest his forehead against Jaskier’s. His amber eyes were blazing with pain as Jaskier entwined his fingers back in Geralt’s hair, softly rubbing the spot he knew made Geralt relax. Geralt closed his eyes, body relaxing under Jaskier’s hands.

“Listen to me Geralt. There was nothing you could do and no one, least of all me blames you for what happened.” Geralt’s eyes were still closed so Jaskier had no idea if his words were getting through the thick skull of alpha but he kept talking anyway, hoping one of his words would get through to Geralt. “You can’t punish yourself for what happened. You need rest. I don’t want to be the cause of you hurting yourself.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone.” Geralt growled, eyes opening, amber eyes blazing with concern and fear in them. “I can’t lose you again. I can’t let someone hurt you again.”

“No one is going to hurt me here.” Jaskier whispered. “There is a keep full of Witchers that won’t let anyone hurt me Geralt. I’ll be fine.”

“And your nightmares.” Geralt growled and it was Jaskier’s turn to close his eyes under the others words. “Fuck Jask, you keep saying you’re fine but I know you’re not.”

“I know I’m not.” Jaskier whispered, opening his eyes to see the surprise in Geralt’s face. “But what am I supposed to do Geralt, admit I’m fucking terrified and refuse to leave this bed. I can’t do that, I have to keep trying to get back to normal or...” or the memories would drown him alive was what Jaksier couldn’t bring himself to say.

“Would telling me what happened help?” Geralt asked, concern laced in his tone.

“I don’t want to burden you with it.” Jaskier whispered. He didn’t want Geralt to know how useless he’d been to help himself. 

“I’m your mate Jaskier, if anyone should hear what happened it should be me.” Geralt brought a hand up to gently stroke along Jaskier’s jawline, amber eyes blazing as he spoke. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But if it helps then I will listen.”

Jaskier was silent a long time, letting himself consider Geralt’s words as Geralt gently traced patterns on his jaw and wrapped his hands in Jaskier’s hair. Finally, Jaskier let out a shaky breath and spoke. “I just felt so fucking helpless. I couldn’t move. The heat...fuck Geralt I couldn’t do a fucking thing because of it. All I can feel is their hands on me. I keep smelling them on my skin all the time and I don’t want to.” Tears started to run down Jaskier’s face as he spoke. Geralt’s amber eyes stared straight at him, eyes blazing and filled with pain and worry as he listened to Jaskier’s words. “I’ve never had another alphas knot but yours.” Jaskier whispered. “I didn’t want any of it and I tried to get away but I couldn’t. I was to weak.”

“You weren’t weak.” Geralt growled, eyes fierce as he spoke. “You’ve never been weak Jaskier and I know you would have fought as much as you could. This wasn’t your fault.”

“Then why do I feel like it was?” Jaskier whispered, fully crying now. “Why do I feel like it’s my fault? They only raped me because of my fucking heat Geralt. My fucking heat made them rape me.”

“No.” Geralt growled, anger flashing in his eyes as he wrapped Jaskier close in his arms and pulled him onto his chest. “They did this because they didn’t care what it would do to you. They didn’t give two fucks about what you wanted and that is not your fault. Jaskier, you are not to blame.”

Sobs built up in Jaskier as he cried against Geralt’s chest for what must have been the 3rd time that day. “I just wanted it to stop.” Jaskier sobbed, Geralt’s hand gently stroking his hair. He had just wanted them to stop.

“I know, Jask. But this wasn’t your fault and I will never let anyone hurt you like that again.” Geralt grunted, and Jaskier let himself sob all of the emotions out of his body as Geralt held him close, rocking him backwards and forwards in his embrace as Jaskier cried himself to sleep.

.........

Ciri was quiet as she walked into the room, head bowed and refusing to look up as Geralt opened the door in front of her. Jaskier had been home for 2 weeks and this was the first time she’d seen him. The first week Geralt had refused visitors to the room and after Ciri had refused to go, guilt welling up in her every time she thought of Jaskier lying helpless and hurt because of her.

Nilfgaard had only attacked Cintra because they had wanted her. The knowledge of that had terrified her. Yennefer suspected that Nilfgaard wanted her because of the magic she held but Ciri didn’t care why. All she cared was that people had died, people had been hurt, Jaskier had been hurt because of her. And probably her Grandmother and Grandfather and parents had died because of her to. If Nilfgaard had attacked her presentation ceremony because of her then that must have been why they attacked Cintra al those years ago.

Ciri had been swimming in a sea of guilt since learning that Nilfgaard where after her. Her family were dead because of her. Jaskier had been kidnapped and hurt because of her. No one had specifically told her what had happened to Jaskier but she wasn’t a naive child. She heard the quiet conversations the Witchers held in the corridors when they thought she wasn’t listening. She knew those men had raped Jaskier. Raped him when he was in the middle of his heat.

She seen him when Geralt brought him back to Kaer Morhen, face battered and covered in bruises, covered only in the thin blanket wrapped around him. He’d looked so tiny in Geralt’s arms. Nothing like the bright vibrant omega that had helped raise Ciri since her families death. Her families death that had been caused because of her.

She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t face Jaskier when she had caused all this pain. Ciri felt her body turn, eyes still trained on the floor when she heard Jaskier’s soft voice call her name. “Ciri?” And against Ciri’s will she lifted her eyes to meet Jaskier.

Jaskier was lying on the bed, Geralt sitting on the chair next to it amber eyes staring at Ciri with concern. Like Geralt’s, Jaskier’s eyes were filled with concern and worry but Ciri saw understanding in those eyes as well. The bruises on his face had faded, barely visible now as he sat in the bed. “Ciri, sweetheart what’s wrong?”

And Jaskier’s calm worried tone was the first thing in all these weeks to break through to Ciri. Her face crumpled and she found herself crying as she launched herself at Jaskier. She felt him flinch as she wrapped her arms around him and she immediately tried to back away, afraid she’d hurt him. Again. But instead Jaskier’s arms pulled her back down, wrapping her in a hug as Ciri cried into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Jaskier, I’m so so sorry.” She sobbed. Jaskier shushed her, rubbing a circle on her back as she continued to sob.

“This wasn’t your fault Ciri.” Jaskier’s voice was calm, filled with worry but honest truth and that made Ciri cry harder. Jaskier should be furious. Should be yelling at her, refusing to see her. But Jaskier had never been harsh with her. Even when she had been cruel to him, shouting at him that he wasn’t her Father, wasn’t her blood, Jaskier had never been angry. He had never blamed her for the words spoken in anger. He had only cared and loved her. She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve anyone’s love, not when it was her fault the people she loved were killed or hurt.

“They were after me. You should have let them take me.” Ciri sobbed.

“No.” Jaskier’s voice was harsh and it stopped Ciri’s uncontrollable sobs. She turned emerald eyes to look at Jaskier shock in them. “Listen to me Ciri.” Jaskier’s voice was harsh but his eyes were filled with concern and tears were running down his face. “You did the right thing Ciri. Never blame yourself for what others would do to get to you. None of this was your fault and I will never blame you for it.”

“I should have stayed.” Ciri said and Jaskier shook his head sadly, bringing her back down to hug gently.

“No Ciri. I don’t know what any of us would have done if we’d lose you.” Jaskier whispered.

“But we can’t lose you either.” Ciri whispered because they couldn’t. Ciri had always thought that Jaskier was the glue that held the Witchers together. He brought out their humanity. Jaskier made sure every single Witcher in the keep knew their worth, made sure they knew they weren’t the emotionless monsters the world made them out to be. Without Jaskier Ciri dreaded to think what would happen to the Witchers without his calming loving influence in their lives.

“She’s right.” Geralt growled. “We won’t lose either of you.” Ciri could hear the seriousness in Geralt’s voice and knew the white-haired Witchers would do whatever it took to keep Jaskier and Ciri alive and well.

.......

Jaksier had been back in Kaer Morhen for a little over 3 weeks and was making remarkable progress. It was still painfully obvious Jaskier was anything but ok. His omega still woke most nights to nightmares, sobbing into Geralt’s chest until he’d calmed down enough to speak, and Jaskier was still quieter than he usually was. But he was getting better.

Thanks to Yennefer and Triss’ magic, the physical injuries caused by Jaskier’s captivity were gone. Jaskier could now comfortably walk around the keep without Geralt’s constant aide but Geralt still found himself hovering near Jaskier, worried that Jaskier wasn’t as healed as he seemed to be. The thought of something happening to cause Jaskier more pain now made Geralt feel physically sick.

Ciri was a near constant fitting in their rooms now. She would spend hours sitting with Jaskier, keeping Jaskier up to date with everything he was missing around the keep. Whenever Ciri was there Jaskier seemed to brighten more than he had at any other time, becoming more like his old self as he laughed and talked with Ciri.

Most of the Witchers in the keep had visited Jaskier’s room since Geralt had allowed visitors. But Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir were the most common visitors. Lambert would most often visit with a stack of cards with him, and sometimes Aidan, and they would sit with Jaskier playing gwent all afternoon. At first Jaskier was quiet in their company but as the hours passed by Jaskier was laughing and joking loudly as if nothing was wrong. Eskel would always visit and sit with Jaskier, talking quietly. Slowly, Eskel would coax Jaskier into talking by telling him stories of his past hunts on the path. By the end of his afternoon visit he would have Jaskier demanding details on specific parts of the hunts as the bards eyes glistened, a song obviously forming in his head. Vesemir would always come with a book in tow. The two would sit quietly reading as they would in the library. When Vesemir left, Jaskier always had a soft smile for the older Witcher.

Triss and Yennefer came most days. They claimed they were there to check Jaskier’s injuries over but Geralt knew they were worried for Jaskier if the worry in Yennefer’s violet eyes were anything to go by. They would usually come early morning, Triss talking a mile a minute in the hopes of getting Jaskier to contribute. He would but while previously Jaskier would be as talkative as Triss the bard only offered small offerings into the conversation. Yennefer would sit in mostly silence, violet eyes looking Jaskier over in scrutiny as Triss spoke. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’ll start thinking I’ve turned into a toad.” Jaskier snapped the morning of their 6th visit to him. The snap made Triss stop in her talking mid flow and Yennefer raised a perfectly manicure eyebrow at Jaskier’s words.

“Good thing you haven’t, green makes you look like you’re about to be sick all over my shoes.” Yennefer said offhandedly and Jaskier stuttered.

“I’ll have you know I look fantastic in green while you my dear Yennefer struggle to pull of anything but the darkest of shades.” Yennefer’s lips and quirked at that and Geralt had felt some of the tension he’d been holding onto release. 

Those words seemed to be what Jaskier needed as since then he was nearly back to his normal self when Yennefer and Triss visited. Talking a mile a minute with Triss that it was hard for anyone but the two of them to know what they ere discussing and trading insults at razor sharp speeds with Yennefer. If Jaskier sometimes trailed off in those conversations, staring blankly at a screen as some memory passed through him no one said anything. 

Now, 3 weeks later Jaskier was pulling on the bright blue double with red and yellow flowers sewn into the sleeves under Geralt’s watchful eyes. “You’re sure you’re ready to face them all?” Geralt asked for what was probably the 100th time since Jaskier had stated he was going to the great hall for dinner that evening.

Jaskier rolled his eyes, pulling his boots on and jumping to his feet. “Yes, for the 1000th time I am sure.” Geralt grunted. While he had doubts he knew Jaskier wouldn’t back down. So instead he resolved to keep a close eye on Jaskier and the second his mate showed any signs of distress he would take Jaskier out of the room. “Stop worrying.” Jaskier smiled, placing a soft kiss to Geralt’s lips.

Geralt hummed, arms coming to gently wrap around Jaskier’s waist as his mate kissed him deeply. They hadn’t been intimate since getting Jaskier back. Geralt hadn’t wanted to push Jaskier so the kiss was more than welcome. To soon Jaskier was pulling backwards, smile playing on his lips as he took Geralt’s hand in his. “Ready?”

Geralt hummed letting Jaskier pull him from the room and down to dinner.

......

As Jaskier and Geralt walked into the great hall a cheer ran up from the Witchers and Jaskier felt his cheeks flush at the attention. There was about 50 odd Witchers in the keep and every one fo them were sitting at the long tables covering the floor. Geralt led him to their usual seats at the Witchers table and as Jaskier passed Lambert the youngest wolf slapped him on the shoulder with a wicked grin on his face. Jaskier smiled softly, taking his seat next to Geralt.

Dinner was as it always was in Kaer Morhen surrounded by Witchers. Loud and uncouth. Food was thrown around the great hall, people shouting and laughing as they tried to do so in a room full of 50 other Witchers doing the same thing. Geralt was a reassuring presence at his side, his hand coming to rest in Jaskier’s hand when the food had been finished and pushed away. 

“So any songs tonight lark?” Lambert shouted above the general dim of the great hall. Jaskier had brought his lute with him downstairs, unsure of why he was doing so save for habit. He hadn’t played it save to tune it since returning to Kaer Morhen.

“You don’t have to.” Geralt whispered, voice lowered so it was only audible to Jaskier. His hand squeezed Jaskier’s under the table and Jaskier smiled softly.

He was hesitant, unsure of himself in a way he had never been before. Jaskier had always lived for an audience. As a bard he only ever truly came alive in the middle of a performance. It didn’t matter if he was singing to a keep full of Witchers, a tavern of people who didn’t appreciate the fine tenor of his voice, or privately to Geralt as he tried out a new song for his mate. The results were always the same heady rush that had Jaskier giddy and excited. But since his rape he had felt less and less confident. Less and less himself. Fuck, he’d only just been able to persuade himself to come down to the great hall, fear having kept him from leaving his rooms past walks with Geralt or to the hot springs for a wash. 

But at Lamberts question the familiar buzz of anticipation ran through Jaskier. He loved to perform. It was as much apart of him as breathing. If he didn’t sing, if he never played his lute again what would he have accomplished except to admit that his rapists had won.

So Jaskier grinned at Lambert and nodded. As Jaskier pulled his beloved lute from its case a hush fell across the great hall, all eyes turning to Jaskier. Jaskier had never been afraid of his Witchers before. Even before meeting Geralt he had never truly believed the horrors people told of them. never believed them to be the heartless monsters they were thought of as and the time he had spent with them, loving them all with everything he had, had shown Jaskier how wrong the stories were. Witchers were just like every other human in the world. They felt the same emotions and they deserved to be treated as such.

Geralt’s hand had dropped from Jaskier’s when he stood up, fingers automatically going to their designated place to start his song. Glancing at Geralt, Jaskier saw a reassuring smile on his alphas face and Jaskier smiled softly back. He could do this. He wanted to do this. He had to do this, for himself, to prove he hadn’t been completely broken.

The beginnings of toss a coin fell from his lute and Jaskier’s voice raised across the great hall. As the music flowed through him Jaskier let himself believe for the first time since his heat had begun and he had been dragged and chained down, that maybe just maybe everything would be ok.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been 3 months since Geralt had gotten Jaskier back. 3 months and Jaskier had been improving. Jaskier had been nearly back to his normal self. Smiling and laughing and singing, fuck Geralt never thought he could miss Jaskier’s constant singing and humming and tuning of his lute as much as he did those first 3 weeks of having Jaskier back. But he had and when Jaskier’s had gotten up that night in the Great hall and sang for the Witchers Geralt’s heart had soared as he watched Jaskier transform back into the vibrant colourful bard he was.

3 months later and Jaskier had improved drastically. There were still small instances where Jaskier reverted back to how he had been in those first 3 weeks but he had been getting better. All the Witchers in Kaer Morhen had noticed, had all seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as Jaskier started to recover.

There had been a few incidents where Jaskier had reverted back to panicked, scared shell of himself he had been in those first week. One such incident had happened 5 weeks after Jaskier had been brought back to Kaer Morhen. Jaskier had been sitting in the hall at Breakfast, sitting at the table with Eskel. Up until that point, Geralt hadn’t left Jaskier’s side for a second, fear and guilt keeping him close to Jaskier at all times, a primal part of him needing to know his mate was ok. 

But in that time he had been neglecting Ciri’s training and he knew his adopted daughter had felt the loss of time with Geralt keenly. She would never have said anything, knowing Jaskier had needed Geralt more at that point and it wasn’t that she had been abandoned. Ciri was with Jaskier and Geralt as much as possible and when she wasn’t with them she was with the other Witchers training or with Yennefer and Triss learning how to control her chaos. But Geralt knew Ciri missed the time alone with just her and Geralt as they trained. It had been Jaskier’s suggestion the night before. Geralt had been unsure but Jaskier had been getting better and it wasn’t as if Jaskier would be alone. So that morning, Geralt and Jaskier walked down for breakfast but instead of staying while Jaskier ate Geralt instead grabbed Ciri (who had been sitting with a few Bear Witchers telling them absurd stories which had the bulky Witchers laughing loudly) and taken her down to the fields.

The rest he learnt from Eskel and a very apologetic Lambert later in the day. Eskel had already been at the table, keeping Jaskier company (or in Jaskier’s words being an overbearing bodyguard in Geralt’s absence). Jaskier hadn’t noticed Lambert standing behind him, though the Witcher swore that he thought Jaskier knew he was there when he slapped the bard on the shoulder in greeting. It had been a natural reaction, something Lambert had done a million times since Jaskier had first come to Kaer Morhen. But no one had touched Jaskier since he had been brought back from Nilfgaard save for when Jaskier had touched them first. 

The effect had been instantaneous. Jaskier had frozen in his seat, breathing turning panicked as whatever horrific memories ran through his mind overtook home. Aidan had run out to the training grounds, out of breath as he told Geralt what had happened. Geralt hadn’t even stopped to drop his practice sword on the floor as he ran to where his mate was. He could feel the panic clawing at Jaskier through the bond and when he got to the hall he found Jaskier on the floor, tears running down his face and breaths coming out in shallow gulps.

“Fuck, Geralt I’m sorry I didn’t...”. Geralt didn’t listen to the rest of Lambert’s words as he shoved the Witcher out of the way and knelt in front of Jaskier. The hall was empty, Eskel moving to kneel on Jaskier’s side, making room for Geralt. 

“Jask, you’re ok.” Geralt grunted, he was distantly aware of Ciri asking what was wrong behind him but his whole focus was on Jaskier. His mates bright blue eyes were looking at Geralt, wide with panic as he tried to control his breathing. “You’re ok, just breath.” Geralt placed a hand on Jaskier’s stomach, letting Jaskier follow his breathing and slowly his omega’s breathing evened out.

“I’m sorry.’ Jaskier whispered words were the first thing he said, head up king to look at the floor. His face was wet with tears and his hand was shaking. Geralt ok his hand in his and squeezed softly.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Eskel said, hand moving as if to touch Jaskier but stopping halfway. Jaskier didn’t seem to notice, eyes still glued to the floor. 

“Yeah, I just didn’t think. If anyone should apologise, it should be me.” Lambert tried for a smile but the worry lining his face ruined it. Not that Jaskier noticed, choosing to keep his head hanging low.

“You don’t have to apologise. It’s not your fault.” Jaskier had murmured and Geralt growled, feeling through the bond the guilt welling inside Jaskier.

“And it’s not your fault either Jaskier.” Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier, glad when his mate went willingly into the embrace. “None of this is your fault.”

“Yeah, it’s those Nilfgaardian bastards.” Lambert growled, angrily from behind Jaskier and Geralt. Jaskier shivered in Geralt’s hold and Geralt flashed and angry glare at Lambert as he rubbed a gentle circle on Jaskier’s back.

“You don’t need to pretend everything’s alright with us, Jaskier.” Eskel’s voice was soft as he gently placed a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. His actions were hesitant, scarred face contorted in worry as he squeezed Jaskier’s shoulder softly. “We won’t think any less of you because of it.”

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore.” Jaskier whispered, voice muffled from where it was buried into Geralt’s chest. “I don’t want to feel so fucking scared.” Geralt’s shirt was turning wet and Geralt could only assume his mate was crying again.

“You won’t always feel like this.” Eskel spoke. Jaskier slowly lifted his head and looked at the scarred Witcher as Eskel spoke. “It’ll be a long time before you’re back to yourself, if you ever are. But you won’t always feel like this.” 

......

Eskel’s words seemed to have helped Jaskier in a way that Geralt’s comforting couldn’t. Geralt wanted to feel angry that it had been Eskel who had finally gotten through to Jaskier but he couldn’t. All that really mattered was that Jaskier was getting better. After the incident at breakfast, Jaskier started to talk more, not hide away as he had been doing before.

It was gradual at first. Before Jaskier had been quiet, the Witchers having to fill in a lot of the silence when Jaskier’s incessant chatter would but slowly Jaskier seemed to gain the confidence he had always naturally had back. He started to sit down in the training grounds as he always had since he had first come to Kaer Morhen, watching the Witchers train and shouting his encouragement. The first time he had shouted and clapped loudly when Letho had knocked Aukes into the mud, Geralt had been so surprised he hadn’t been paying attention and Eskel had tackled him into the muddy ground. 

Slowly, the sound of music started to fill the halls of Kaer Morhen. Jaskier’s voice filtered in the halls and once again there were very few places Geralt could go in the keep without hearing the sound of Jaskier’s voice. Whether soft singing and plucks of his lute as he worked out a new song or the sound of his loud laughs as he once more started to enjoy the Witchers company again rather than hiding away in his and Geralt’s shared rooms.

There had been an incident, not 4 weeks ago when Jaskier and Ciri had decided to play an innocent prank on the unsuspecting Witchers. The two had gone into the hot springs and Ciri had cast a spell she had learnt from Triss (who had been more than happy in assisting the duo in a bit of mischief around the keep) and Yennefer (who had just smirked smugly at the thought of the hardened warriors confusion when they walked into the hot springs to find the fallout of the spell). So when a group of 50 hot and sweaty Witchers walked into the hot springs from the training grounds to find the springs full of bright pink bubbles and their bard and pup leaning against a wall clothes drenched to their skin and laughing loudly, Geralt had found himself smiling more than he had in a long time. The sight of Jaskier’s face, smile wide in laughter and bright blue eyes shining in happiness had Geralt believing for the first time that everything would be ok.

Yes, Jaskier still had nightmares. Geralt had lost count of the number of times in the last 3 months he had woken to Jaskier’s pained whimpers. Or the number of times that Jaskier had woken crying and unable to breath past the panic clawing at him. But as time wore on, the nightmares lessened. Now Jaskier smiled more easily and the far away look he got in his eyes as he remembered what had happened to him happened less and less. And, fuck Geralt had thought everything was going back to normal. He thought Jaskier would be ok.

He was fucking wrong. So fucking wrong.

.....

It started a little under 3 months after Jaskier had been saved from Nilfgaard. Jaskier had started to get sick. A stomach bug, they’d all thought but it didn’t clear up. If anything it got worse. Every morning, fuck it after every meal, Jaskier would find himself leaning over the chamber pot emptying his stomach of the contents of said meal. Geralt would kneel next to Jaskier, gently stroking Jaskier’s back and offering a water skin for Jaskier to wash his mouth out. And every time Jaskier would give a wobbly smile before collapsing into Geralt’s hold. 

And Jaskier barely ate anything anymore. Everything he picked up at breakfast, lunch and dinner Jaskier would take a tentative bite of, grimace and spend the rest of the meal playing with the food in front of him. Geralt didn’t know if Jaskier’s sudden lack of appetite was the sickness or something else but whatever it was he was fucking worried.

Jaskier’s face had always been a source of joy and happiness but not every time Geralt looked at him all he felt was a pain in his heart. Jaskier was loosing weight. His face slowly starting to lose the softness and instead turning gaunt looking as his body refused the sustenance he needed. And as the days and weeks slowly dragged by and Jaskier wasn’t getting any better, instead was slowly starting to get worse, Geralt felt his heart clench more and more painfully.

He had asked Triss and Yennefer about Jaskier’s illness, believing the two mages would know what ailed Jaskier better than he would. At first they believed it was a simple illness. Something that would clear itself up after a few days, or maybe a couple of weeks. Except it was a month now and Jaskier hadn’t gotten any better, was slowly getting worse.

They were lying in bed, Jaskier’s slim frame pressed against Geralt’s body as the bard slept. It was well past midnight but Geralt couldn’t sleep, hadn’t been able to sleep for days if he was honest. Ideally, Geralt stroked Jaskier’s hair, listening to the deep even breathing of Jaskier in sleep. Running a hand down Jaskier’s spine, Geralt winced as he felt the frail ness there.

Jaskier had always been well built, nothing like most omegas. He was tall, almost as tall as Geralt. His body was slim but he had well built muscle under all that. Evidence of the years he spent walking the path with the Witchers, singing their praises. But now all that muscle was nearly gone. Geralt knew that some of the cause was Nilfgaard’s treatment of his mate. Jaskier hadn’t left the keep since being rescued, hadn’t even suggested it which proved to Geralt that Jaskier wasn’t well yet. Jaskier had always loved the travelling. He wasn’t built for being locked in one place for too long. Winter was a nightmare with the adventurous bard, jaskier always find some form of mischief to get himself into out of pure and simple boredom. But not once had Jaskier mentioned being bored or a desire to leave the safety of Kaer Morhen since being brought back to Kaer Morhen.

So it was no surprise that Jaskier had gotten softer in the last few months, losing the defined muscles gained from excessive walking and travel. Just like it was no surprise that Jaskier was become slimmer, the excessive sickness this last month and the lack of appetite resulting in it. As much as Geralt hated these changes, hated that Jaskier’s body was starving itself by refusing the little sustenance Jaskier could bring himself to eat, hated that Jaskier’s softness had come because of the horrors of what Nilfgaard had done to him leaving Jaskier unwilling to go down the path and the life he loved so much, he understood it. He hated it more than he thought he could hate anything in his life but he understood it.

What he couldn’t understand was the sudden change in Jaskier’s scent. It had come around the same time as the sickness. A subtle change, something. He still smelt like Jaskier. Still smelt like the chamomile that Jaskier loved to use after every bath, still smelt of the honeysuckle that was uniquely apart of Jaskier’s scent. But underneath all of that there was a scent that Geralt just couldn’t identify. He hated it.

And while Jaskier’s face had started to turn gaunter as the lack of food sapped at his bodies reserves, a small bulge had appeared at Jaskier’s abdomen. It was barely noticeable, Geralt himself had only noticed it a week ago but it was there. A tiny small bulge as if Jaskier had eaten too much. Except Jaskier hadn’t eaten a proper meal in weeks and the food he did eat was immediately thrown back up.

As Geralt gently stroked Jaskier’s hair, he looked down at his omega. Curled as he was into Geralt’s chest, Jaskier looked smaller than he was, more vulnerable. It was a sight Geralt had seen many times over the years. Jaskier curled into Geralt’s bulk, securely wrapped into Geralt’s arms. Any man would look small wrapped in Geralt’s large arms but Geralt had never before realised how vulnerable it made Jaskier look. It made him remember the sight of Jaskier tied down to the fucking bed. Naked and covered in scents that weren’t his, violated and beaten during his heat. Geralt couldn’t bare to see Jaskier so vulnerable again. Couldn’t bare to think of Jaskier’s vulnerable and afraid and helpless and someone hurt him.

“Geralt?” So focused on his own thoughts, Geralt startled at the sound of Jaskier’s voice. He hadn’t even noticed his omega stirring in his arms. Jaskier looked up at him, blue eyes bleary from sleep but concern written in them. “What’s wrong love?” Jaskier murmured, pushing himself up into a seating position. As he moved the nightshirt (one of Geralt’s black shirt that Jaskier had confidently stolen, rose up betraying the expanse of flesh underneath. Where there had once been a flat plane all the way down Jaskier’s chest a small bulge sat and Geralt felt anger run through him. “Geralt, talk to me.” Jaskier’s concerned voice made Geralt lift his eyes to look at Jaskier.

Jaskier’s face was pale, a light hint of stubble appearing at his jaw. Cheeks that had once been slightly rounded now sunken inwards, making Jaskier’s face look thinner than ever. “Geralt, love what’s wrong?” 

And Geralt couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take looking at Jaskier and seeing all these changes, seeing how sick Jaskier was and being unable to do a fucking thing about it. Geralt jumped out of the bed, fists clenched at his side as anger ran through him. Outside the wind from the valley howled, a slight breeze coming from the closed window, sneaking through the gaps and reminding Geralt winter would be here soon. Fuck, Jaskier was already so thin and winters in Kaer Morhen were hard. They had enough food, enough fire wood and furs to keep them until winter broke but it didn’t make the cold any less grating. maybe Jaskier would be better somewhere warmer. Oxenfurt maybe. Maybe that’s what Jaskier needed, somewhere warmer, somewhere where he didn’t have to think about what had happened. Somewhere where he didn’t have to see the alpha that had failed to protect him every single day.

“Geralt, dear heart you’re scaring me. Please, tell me what’s wrong.” Jaskier was in front of Geralt, blue eyes fully awake now and alarm clear on his face. Fuck, Geralt hadn’t meant to upset Jaskier.

“I’m fine.” Geralt all but growled. He needed to get out of here. Needed to give jaskier his space, Jaskier needed to sleep not eat with his alpha. Geralt didn’t deserve Jaskier’s love and attention. 

“You’re not fine Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice was soft as he gently took Geralt’s hand in his and entwined their fingers. “Geralt, please love, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t fucking sleep.” Geralt snapped, amber eyes blaring as he glared at Jaskier. Jaskier visibly flinched and guilt pulled at Geralt. He started to pull away from Jaskier but his omega just growled a low no and pulled Geralt closer.

“Why?” Jaskier’s voice was firm as he looked Geralt directly in the eye. Geralt couldn’t control the anger that was running off him now even though he knew it wasn’t fair for Jaskier to see this. Jaskier didn’t deserve Geralt’s anger, fuck Jaskier deserved so much better than Geralt. He needed an alpha who could protect him, not one who let his mate get raped.

“Fuck.” Geralt growled, this time succeeding in downloading Jaskier’s grip as he ran a hand through his hair, stalking across the room. 

“Geralt, I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” Jaskier tried and Geralt whirled at his mate and growled.

“You can’t fucking help Jaskier. Fuck, I can’t do this anymore.” Geralt growled.

“Do what Geralt?” Jaskier asked, face set in a determined glare as he watched Geralt stalk the length of their bedroom.

“Watch you pretending everything fucking ok.” Geralt growled, stopping to stare at Jaskier. “I can’t fucking pretend it’s all ok that you didn’t get fucking raped. That you’re not sick. Fuck, Jaskier you look like you’re fucking dying.” His cheeks were wet and fuck Witchers didn’t cry. Witchers didn’t lose control of their emotions but Geralt couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t pretend Jaskier was fine when the evidence to the contrary where staring him in the face.

“Geralt, sweetheart.” Jaskier started but Geralt shook his head, growling angrily.

“No, fuck Jaskier you were raped. You were fucking raped and I couldn’t fucking help you. I failed you.” Geralt shouted. Jaskier was looking at Geralt, eyes glassy with unshed tears as he let out a breath and seemed to fold in on himself, collapsing to sit on the bed.

“Fuck, Geralt...I didn’t realise. Fuck, I’m sorry.” Jaskier breathed and Geralt could visibly see the distress coming from Jaskier. Jaskier was blaming himself, believing he had caused Geralt;s anger and Geralt cursed himself angrily. 

He sat next to Jaskier on the bed, taking Jaskier’s hand in his and staring at Jaskier until his mate lifted eyes to look at him. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I just...fuck Jaskier I can’t lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me.” Jaskier whispered and Geralt just shook his head angrily. 

“You’re sick Jaskier. You keep getting fucking sicker and I don’t know what to fucking do.” Geralt growled. 

“We’ll talk to Yennefer and Triss.” Jaskier said, worry in his voice. “You’re right, I am getting sicker.” Jaskier closed his eyes, dropping his head to rest on his hands as he stared at the floor. “Fuck, Geralt I just wanted everything to be ok again.”

“It’s not ok.” Geralt growled and Jaskier nodded his head softly.

“You’re right Geralt. It’s not.” Jaskier lifted his head to meet Geralt’s eyes, arms coming to wrap around Geralt’s shoulders and pull his alpha into a hug as he gently pressed his nose against Geralt’s scent gland, scenting him softly. Geralt felt himself relax, pressing a soft kiss to Jaskier’s own scent gland, on top of the faded mating mark. “But you have done nothing wrong Geralt and I don’t want you to blame yourself for any of this.”

“I let them fucking take you.” Geralt growled, emotion clogging his throat as he tightened his arms around Jaskier.

“No you didn’t Geralt. You did everything you could to get me back. I don’t care what you think but this wasn’t your fault and I will never blame you for what happened.” Jaskier murmured and Geralt knew Jaskier was telling the truth. His mate would never blame him for what happened but Jaskier had always been forgiving of everyone, especially Geralt. So as much as Geralt knew Jaskier believed the truth of his own words, Geralt couldn’t believe them because as far as Geralt was concerned he had failed Jaskier in the worst possible way and there wasn’t anything Jaskier could say to change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn’t the way I originally planned to go with this chapter but I hope you all enjoyed regardless.


	5. Chapter 5

Jaskier hadn’t argued when Geralt had told him to stay in bed while he brought food up and found Yennefer and Triss. As much as it pained him to be stuck sitting in their bed, not allowed to get up and do things for himself once more, jaskier understood why Geralt asked him to stay in the bed so he relented.

Fuck, Geralt had looked devastated last night. Fucking devastated. In all his years knowing the white wolf, Jaskier had never seen Geralt like that before. Geralt had been crying, amber eyes blazed with anger and fear and worry and guilt. So much fucking guilt. Jaskier had known Geralt blamed himself for what happened but he had thought that Geralt had stopped. They had talked about this and Jaskier had thought Geralt had stopped. But of course he hadn’t, Geralt who blamed himself for everything that was wrong with the world. Geralt who brooded more than anyone Jaskier had ever met, of course his mate hadn’t stopped blaming himself.

Jaskier felt guilt well in him as he thought about the last 4 month, and had it really been 4 months. Fuck, it felt like a lifetime. And in all that time never once had jaskier thought about how Geralt might be taking this. How anyone might be taking this. He knew he shouldn’t blame himself, not after what had happened. It was little wonder that Jaskier hadn’t had the mindset to think about how his kidnapping from the Nilfgaardian’s would affect everyone else.

Jaskier had spent the last 3 months (nearly 4 months) battling those memories, refusing to let them pull him under as he fought to get back to the man he had always been. He hated that his mind plagued him with memories of the rapes. Hated that when he least expected it phantom hands ran up and down his body, leaving him in a cold sweat and terrified. He hated that he couldn’t shrug it all of, that he couldn’t just pretend it hadn’t happened. But most of all he hated that he had been so wrapped up in his own self that he hadn’t noticed how hard it had been for Geralt.

Fuck, Jaskier should have noticed. He should have done something to stop Geralt blaming himself for what had happened. Jaskier should have been there to comfort Jaskier, to pull the stubborn Witcher out of his own head and remind Geralt that none of this was his fault. Jaskier should have been there for Geralt and he hadn’t been, and that hurt worse than anything the Nilfgaardian’s had done to him ever could.

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s voice drifted from the doorway, frown on his face and plate of food in his hand. It was loaded with bread, fruit and cheese. Jaskier’s stomach churned at the very sight of it. 

Over the last month Jaskier had been taken by some form of sickness. He wasn’t ill, didn’t feel ill anyway, but even the sight of some of the foods he had once loved knocked him sick and exiting left his stomach churning until he couldn’t take it any more and the food found its way back out of him. He knew it wasn’t good, that not eating was dangerous but his body didn’t seem to care.

“Can you eat?” Geralt asked, voice unsure and pained as he gently sat on the bed and placed the plate on his own lap. Jaskier felt guilt well in him at unsureness in Geralt’s voice and found himself nodding even though he knew he would probably throw it back up in an hour. The look of relief on Geralt’s face though as he passed the plate to Jaskier made that worry disappear instantly. As Jaskier started to pick at the fruit, one of the few foods he’d found that didn’t leave his stomach roiling angrily, Geralt started to speak. When had Geralt become the talkative one of their relationship, jaskier didn’t know.

“Triss and Yennefer are coming up after breakfast.” Geralt grumbled and Jaskier hummed past the mouthful of strawberries. He was hungry but Jaskier still found himself forcing himself to swallow around the fruit. “Jask are you ok?” Geralt asked and Jaskier realised he’d been sitting with his eyes closed, face scrunched in pain as his stomach angrily gurgled. “Are you going to be sick?” Geralt’s voice was filled with concern and he had taken the plate from Jaskier in an instant, moving to grab the chamber pot as Jaskier steadied his breathing that had started to come out in ragged breaths.

“I...I don’t think so.” Jaskier mumbled, the sick feeling was slowly starting to pass and Jaskier breathed a sigh of relief as his stomach quietly settled. Maybe he’d finally be able to keep some food down.

“Do you want anymore?” Geralt asked. Jaskier looked down at the plate. All the fruit was gone and most of the cheese but there was still a large wad of bread sitting there. The thought of forcing that down had Jaskier’s stomach churning again and Jaskier shook his head softly. “Ok.” Geralt grunted, dropping the plate on the side. 

“Sit?” Jaskier asked and Geralt grunted, taking a seat next to Jaskier and opening his arms so Jaskier could drop into Geralt’s side. Geralt hummed as he gently wrapped an arm around Jaskier, holding his omega close and Jaskier found himself smiling softly. He loved this, loved sitting in Geralt’s warm embrace, being held close to Geralt. But as he sat there he became aware of the taint of guilt coming from their bond and he slowly cursed himself for not noticing it before. 

“Geralt, can I ask you something?” Jaskier asked and Geralt grunted in agreement. “Last night...did you believe me? I mean about me not blaming you for what happened.”

“Yes.” Geralt replied, voice gruff as he squeezed Jaskier closer to him. “I know you don’t blame me Jask.”

“But you do blame yourself?” Jaskier asked and the silence from Geralt was all the confirmation Jaskier needed. “Geralt, you shouldn’t. There was nothing you could do.” Jaskier knew deep down Geralt knew that but Geralt knowing that and actually believing it were to very different things.

“I almost lost you.” Geralt grunted, voice close to Jaskier’s ear.

“But you didn’t. And you’re not going to now, Triss and Yennefer will figure out what’s wrong and I’ll be fine.” Jaskier promised, knowing that whatever was causing his sudden illness would be no match to the two powerful sorceresses. “But Geralt, I need you to stop blaming yourself.”

Before Geralt could say anything though there was a knock at the door and Geralt grunted for whoever was outside the door to come in.

Triss and Yennefer walked in, both dressed as stunningly as always. “Morning Jaskier.” Triss smiled brightly at the omega but Jaskier could see the worry in her eyes. Another reminder that what happened wasn’t only affecting Jaskier. “How are you feeling today?”

“He kept some food down.” Geralt growled in answer.

“I can answer for myself.” Jaskier laughed, earning him a grunt from Geralt.

Yennefer was leaning against the wall, violet eyes watching Jaskier and making the omega feel a bit like he was a pinned butterfly in a box under the sorceresses intense stare. “You ok like shit.” Yennefer commented. Usually Jaskier would retort with a similar comment back but he couldn’t, not when he knew Yennefer’s words were right. 

“Can you heal him?” Geralt growled and Yennefer rolled her eyes.

“We need to know what’s wrong first.” Triss’ voice had turned serious as she came to sit on the bed next to Jaskier. When nothing happened Yennefer sent a pointed look in Geralt’s direction.

“That means get off the bed while we work.” Geralt grunted but he did move. Jaskier felt coldness fill him at the loss of the heavy warm weight of his alpha next to him.

“Geralt can stay can’t he?” Jaskier asked. A sudden fear had come into him as Geralt walked away. he couldn’t name it or he certainly didn’t understand why he’d suddenly felt the cold thread of fear as Triss placed her hands hovering a few inches above his body but he felt it.

“As long as he stays out fo the way.” Yennefer replied, earning an eye roll from Triss. The violet eyed alpha took a seat on Jaskier’s other side, hands coming to rest next to Triss’ bone him.

“This won’t hurt at all.” Triss continued voice bright as chaos lit up the room. Jaskier felt his whole body tense as Yennefer and Triss slowly ran their hands down his body. They started at his head but when they got to his stomach they paused. A frown appeared on Triss’ face as she and Yennefer hovered over the newly formed bulge that had suddenly appeared these last few days. 

Jaskier shivered, feeling uncomfortable and the incessant need to run as Yennefer and Triss’ hands hovered above Jaskier’s stomach, chaos vibrating the air. As they slowly lowered their hands away from jaskier, the chaos disappearing, Jaskier felt himself sigh in relief.

“You ok?” Geralt asked, worry in his eyes as he took Yennefer’s spot as the two sorceresses stood up and away from the bed. Jaskier nodded, looking at Yennefer and Triss where the two were standing at the edge of the bed. They had identical looks of worry on their faces. “What’s wrong?” Geralt demanded, hand coming to wrap in Jaskier’s and squeezing it softly. “Is Jaskier ok?”

Triss ignored Geralt entirely, instead coming to sit on the bed and taking Jaskier’s other hand in her own. Yennefer hadn’t moved from where she was standing, staring at Jaskier in a way that made the omega feel self conscious.

“Jaskier, you’re not ill.” Triss started, voice filled with worry and concern as she spoke.

“Then why are you acting as if someone died?” Jaskier tried to laugh but all he managed was for his voice to sound flat and betray the fear he was feeling. 

“You’re not sick Jaskier. You’re...you’re pregnant.”

And with that Jaskier felt shock fill him. He heard voices above him but he wasn’t listening to the words, his mind reeling at Triss’ words. He was pregnant. A baby was growing inside his stomach. It wasn’t possible. He was mated to a Witcher, Geralt was sterile, Geralt couldn’t get him pregnant. Except...fuck...no.

Jaskier hadn’t even considered it. Fuck, he hadn’t even thought it possible. All these years of being mated to a Witcher, ever having to consider the consequences of sex. Geralt could never get him pregnant but any other alpha could. And how many alpha’s had had him during his last heat. Omega’s heats were designed specifically to enhance the omega’s chances of getting pregnant. Everything from the slick the heat produced to make sex easier to the change in scent to make every alpha in smelling distance go wild with lust and desire was designed to get Jaskier pregnant. It was little wonder Jaskier was pregnant. What did alphas say, the chances of an omega coming out of a heat not filled with a child was 1 in a million. And Jaskier had taken so many fucking alphas.

Of course, he was pregnant.

...........

Anger raged inside in Geralt at Triss’ words. “No.” Geralt growled, anger in his voice as he jumped to his feet. Jaskier didn’t even notice. His omega was staring ahead, eyes wide in shock, unresponsive. “He can’t be fucking pregnant Triss. He can’t be.”

“He is.” Yennefer stated. He violet eyes hadn’t left Jaskier for a moment and concern was written on her face. “Think about it Geralt. The sickness, suddenly not being able to stomach certain foods. The bulge on his stomach. The change of scent. It’s so obvious,w e should have known.” Geralt just stared between the two sorceress, eyes wild as he tried to understand what they meant.

“How far?” Geralt swallowed and Yennefer shook her head.

“You know how far gone.” Triss murmured and Geralt felt rage fill him once more. Those bastards. Those fucking bastards had done this. They hadn’t just raped Jaskier. Hadn’t just humiliated Geralt’s mate, they had fucking impregnated him.

“Get rid of it.” Geralt growled, anger building at the thought of that...that thing growing inside his mate. A monster that was slowly sapping the life from Jaskier, it needed to die. Fuck, it needed to die before it killed Jaskier.

“No.” Yennefer snapped, eyes wild and Geralt glared at her, anger building.

“No Yennefer. Get rid of it. Now.” Geralt growled. The two alpha’s stared each other down, both emitting anger and rage as they glared at each other.

“We can abort the baby.” Triss spoke. Yennefer’s eyes snapped to her, rage on her face but Triss didn’t back down and instead continued to speak. “But it isn’t our choice.” She looked pointedly at Jaskier who hadn’t even reacted to the shouting happening around him. Fuck he hadn’t moved and inch. Geralt reached across their bond and found the confusion and panic rising in Jaskier.

“Fuck.” Geralt growled, kneeling on the floor and taking Jaskier’s hand in his. “Jask?” Geralt rue day eyes to Geralt, blue eyes still wide with shock as he turned to look at Triss.

“I’m pregnant?” Jaskier asked, voice small. His hand came to rest hesitantly against the bulge of his stomach and if it wouldn’t mean hurting Jaskier Geralt would rip that bulge from Jaskier’s body in a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry Jaskier but yes.” Triss spoke, tears in her eyes.

Jaskier stared down at his stomach, confusion and wonder in his eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

“We’ll get it out of you.” Geralt growled, worry running through him at Jaskier’s behaviour. Fuck, hadn’t Jaskier been through enough. “Triss can get rid of it.”

“No!” Jaskier shouted, pulling his hand from Geralt so suddenly that Geralt didn’t have time to react. “You can’t. No.”

“Jaskier, we need to get it out of you.” Geralt couldn’t understand why Jaskier was suddenly looking at him with such confusion, tears in his eyes. “It’s ok Jaskier, you’ll be ok.”

“No. You can’t, please don’t.” Jaskier was on his feet now, backing away from Geralt as his alpha looked on in confusion and helplessness.

“Jaskier, sweetheart, I know your scared but you don’t have to be. We can get it out, we can get rid of it.” Jaskier shook his head, back hitting the wall as he stared at Geralt in fear. His hand was clutching at his stomach, wrapping around the bulge protectively as Geralt moved forwards.

“You can’t.” Jaskier whispered, shaking his head. “It’s a baby Geralt.”

“It’s a monster.” Geralt growled. “It’s a fucking monster and it’s killing you.” He couldn’t watch jaskier die, he wouldn’t. Not when there was something he could do.

“I don’t care.” Jaskier whispered. Fear was filling the air now and Geralt felt his anger increase. That thing inside Jaskier was causing this. Geralt hadn’t been able to protect his mate from being raped but he wouldn’t let that monster growing inside his mate kill him. He would protect Jaskier no matter the cost. “Please Geralt. Don’t.”

“Jaskier, we need to get rid of it.” Geralt started towards Jaskier but he was stopped in his tracks by Yennefer. The violet eyed mage stood in between Geralt and his mate, violet eyes blazing and chaos vibrating in the air around her.

“He said no.” Yennefer snarled. Geralt growled back. He wouldn’t let Yennefer get in the way of him protecting Jaskier. “You need to go.” Yennefer growled but Geralt didn’t back down. He couldn’t, not when Jaskier was hurting.

Triss had moved around the two snarling alpha’s, coming to wrap her arms around Jaskier. Fuck, Jaskier was crying. Every instinct in Geralt was shouting at him to comfort Jaskier, to wrap his arms around his mate and comfort Jaskier while he cried but he couldn’t. Not with Yennefer in the way.

“Move.” Geralt growled, putting as much rage and anger in his voice as he could. Any other alpha would have backed down by now but not Yennefer. Yennefer just continued to glare at him, violet eyes blazing as chaos buzzed in the air.

“Don’t make me make you alive Geralt.” Yennefer growled.

“That monster is going to kill Jaskier.” Geralt growled. “I need to kill it.” A sob from behind Yennefer had Geralt moving his gaze to where Jaskier was looking at Geralt with so much pain and heartbreak in his eyes that it had Geralt stepping back a step.

“The only monster Jaskier needs protecting from right now is you.” Yennefer growled, violet eyes softening minutely for a moment. “I know you want to protect him but right now you are doing the exact opposite.”

“Jaskier?” Geralt tried, needing to make Jaskier understand why they needed to get that monster out of Jaskier now.

Instead all he got was the heartbroken look on Jaskier’s tear stained face. “Please go.” Jaskier whispered and the words were like a gut punch to Geralt’s stomach.

At Jaskier’s words the rage and anger disappeared and Geralt became aware of the stink of fear in the room. Fear of him. Jaskier who had never so much as blinked in the face of any of the Witchers no matter what he saw was scared of Geralt. Geralt who he had seen high off potions, face a mess of black veins and covered in blood and guts, who Jaskier had just tutted at dramatically and helped clean said blood and guts from Geralt’s clothes, body and hair. The Jaskier who had never been scared of any of them was terrified of Geralt.

“Jaskier, please.” Geralt tried but Jaskier just shook his head, tears still running down his face.

“Please go.” Jaskier whispered and Geralt felt the pain through the bond that those words corset Jaskier. Geralt wanted to argue, wanted to beg Jaskier to let him stay. Wanted to apologise for scaring Jaskier so much but he couldn’t. All he could do was stagger out of the room, feeling as if someone had stabbed him repeatedly through the heart.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a bit of jumping from different character point of views in this chapter. I’ve tried to make it as obvious as possible whose POV is being written so hopefully it makes sense.

Geralt wanted to get rid of his baby. Jaskier’s baby. Tears ran down Jaskier’s face as he felt his knees collapse, watching his alpha leave the room. Geralt thought the baby was a monster. Jaskier’s hands came to rest on his stomach, feeling the tiny bulge that indicated where the baby, his baby was growing inside of him.

Fuck.

Jaskier bit back a sob as he rested his forehead on his knees, mind still reeling over that fact. He was pregnant. He was pregnant with his rapists baby. Fuck, no wonder Geralt wanted to get rid of it. How could Geralt ever love another alpha’s child. But Jaskier couldn’t, he couldn’t.

Jaskier had always known he would never be pregnant, would never have a chance to Father a child. Not when his mate was a Witcher. Geralt had asked him when they first mated if he was sure he had wanted to give that up and Jaskier hadn’t even hesitated. Of course he would give up the chance to have children because he loved Geralt with everything he had. Except now he was pregnant and Geralt didn’t want him to keep the baby.

A sob tore from Jaskier as he clutched his arms harder around his knees. He needed Geralt. Fuck, he couldn’t do this without Geralt. He was fucking terrified. There was a baby growing inside of him. A baby that had been conceived because Jaskier had been raped. 

Jaskier shook his head numbly, one hand resting on his stomach while the other wrapped around his knees. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t do this when all he could think was those hands on his body. Violating him. Hurting him. Jaskier reached through the soul bond he shared with Geralt but all he felt from his mate was anger and rage and betrayal. Fuck, what would Geralt think of him? What would Geralt think of Jaskier wanting to keep this baby. A rape baby. Jaskier hiccuped another sob at the thought.

He couldn’t get rid of the child though. It wasn’t the baby’s fault and the second Triss had spoken the words Jaskier had felt an abundant of love fill him for the tiny title baby growing inside of him. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that he might want to get rid of it. It wasn’t the baby’s fault. But Jaskier didn’t think he could do this on his own. No, he ducking knew he couldn’t.

Jaskier sobbed again, breathing coming out in breathless gasps as he realised he couldn’t raise this baby alone. Not without Geralt. Not when Geralt already hated this tiny innocent baby. He just couldn’t do it.

......

“Fuck.” Triss swore, crouching down next to Jaskier and placing a hand on his shoulder. Jaskier flinched violently, shaking his back and forth and mumbling a litany of “No, no, no, no.”

Yennefer looked at the omega huddled in on himself in the furthest corner of the room. Jaskier’s pained gasps filled the air, face a mess with tears. One hand wrapped tightly around his knees and the other...the other settled protectively over where they now knew a small child to be growing.

Triss was gently rubbing circles on Jaskier’s back but the omega didn’t seem to be paying attention, panic and fear radiating off him in droves. Yennefer hadn’t moved from the spot she had taken to defect the bard from Geralt. Shock filled her. Shock, anger, pain and...jealousy. She was jealous that Jaskier was pregnant.

Yennefer felt a longing in her that she hadn’t felt since before Ciri had come into their lives. When they had taken her womb in Aretuza she hadn’t known what she was giving up, hand’t known there was a part deep inside her that longed for her own child, her own flesh and blood. She hadn’t realised until years later, burying a small child in the sand of a beach. Yennefer longed for her own baby, someone who would love her unconditionally despite everything. The longing had gone when she had gained Ciri, she loved the girl as though she was her own flesh and blood. But now, looking at Jaskier she felt that old longing reappear and felt the jealousy appear with it.

Except she didn’t have a right to be jealous. Not when this hadn’t been Jaskier’s choice. Not when the only reason he was pregnant was because he had raped in his heat. And even if he hadn’t been, even if this child was somehow Geralt’s then Yennefer would still have no right to be jealous. Not when Jaskier would never have felt any sort of jealousy had the roles been reversed. 

“Yennefer, what do we do?” Triss’ voice was frantic, breaking Yennefer out of her trance. Without a second thought she came to kneel next to where Jaskier was still sobbing, breathing coming out in pained gasps.

“I...I don’t know.” Yennefer admitted, rage boiling inside her. How dare Geralt abandon Jaskier? Geralt should be the one comforting Jaskier. It didn’t matter that Geralt wanted Jaskier to get rid of this that fool of a Witcher should have ignored his own feelings and considered for one moment what Jaskier might be feeling. He wasn’t the one that was pregnant after all, Jaskier was.

“Jaskier?” Triss tried but it didn’t seem to break through the panic and sorrow that had descended into Jaskier. Yennefer tentatively reached out with the chaos before instantly withdrawing. Jaskier’s mind was a mess of pain and self-doubt and confusion. Yennefer felt her eyes burn with tears but stubbornly pushed them back. Triss was doing nothing to hide her own tears but crying wouldn’t do anything to solve this.

As Triss continued to rub gentle circles on Jaskier’s back, the omega seemingly oblivious to both Yennefer and Triss there; Yennefer realised something that might get Jaskier out of his hysteria. Or at least break through enough to let them help calm him down.

“Jaskier, you need to calm down or you’ll hurt the baby.” Yennefer internally cringed at the harshness of her words but that seemed to do the trick. 

Jaskier lifted wild, panic filled eyes at Yennefer. “Wh...what?” Jaskier’s breathing was still laboured but Yennefer breathed a sigh of relief to see Jaskier finally reacting to their words.

“The baby Jask, you need to calm down or you might hurt it.” Jaskier’s eyes welled up in tears, a sob breaking through his body at Yennefer’s words. Shit, that hadn’t gone well.

Triss glared at Yennefer. “Jaskier, it’s ok. Nothing’s going to happen to them but you need to calm down.”

“I can’t do this Triss.” Jaskier breathed, pain in his voice as he turned tear stained eyes to Triss. Yennefer felt pain shoot through her at Jaskier’s words. Jaskier didn’t want the baby, it was foolish to think he would. Him saying he did before had just been a momentary lack of judgement, driven by panic nothing more. Yennefer fought back the anger and pain she felt at Jaskier’s words even as Triss spoke. This wasn’t her baby, it wasn’t her choice to make.

“We can get rid...”. Triss started but Jaskier’s pained sob broke her words off.

“No, please. I didn’t mean...fuck, please don’t.” Jaskier sobbed, backing away from Triss and knocking into Yennefer’s side in his haste to get away. Triss held out her hands, sadness in her expression as Jaskier rested his hands once more protectively over the area the baby grew.

“Yenn, I...I don’t know what to.” Jaskier whispered and Yennefer felt her heart break at the fragility in Jaskier’s voice. Jaskier wasn’t fragile. He spent his life trailing after Witchers, sharing the bed of the White Wolf, no part of him was fragile. But in that moment Jaskier sounded exactly that.

“No one is going to force you to do anything.” Yennefer promised, wrapping an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders and pulling him close. “I promise, no one is going to make you get rid of your baby.” Jaskier sobbed quietly into Yennefer’s arms.

“Jaskier, I’m sorry.” Triss hesitantly put a hand on Jaskier’s knee. “I thought that’s what you meant.”

“No...I..”. Jaskier was still crying but Yennefer was pleased to note his breathing had finally evened out. “I...I meant I...I don’t know what I meant.” Yennefer and Triss share a look of pain, Yennefer’s arms still around Jaskier.

“It doesn’t matter right now Jask.” Triss promised, squeezing Jaskier’s knee softly. She tried for a smile but Yennefer could see the pain in her eyes. “How about we get you up, you look like you can do with some rest.” Jaskier nodded softly and Yennefer made a point of keeping her arms around Jaskier as the omega stood on shaky legs.

He was oddly subdued as he sat on the edge of the bed. He had stopped crying but his face was still tear stained and Triss found a cloth and used it to dry the tears away. “Thank you.” Jaskier whispered, eyes moving from Triss to Yennefer.

“You don’t need to thank us Jaskier.” Triss smiled. “We’re here for you.”

Jaskier nodded, eyes drifting to the door where Geralt had disappeared from. Yennefer could see the sinfulness in Jaskier’s face, that Geralt would reappear and apologise. But he didn’t. Yennefer couldn’t help the anger build in her once more at the thought of Geralt leaving Jaskier in this state.

As soon as she knew Jaskier was alright, Yennefer would be having words with Geralt of Rivia.

..............

“What the fuck is he doing?” Lambert growled angrily as he followed Eskel’s footsteps through the snow. Eskel didn’t both glancing back, Lambert had been complaining since the moment they stepped foot outside in pursuit of Geralt. The snow had lain heavily over Kaer Morhen in the last few days and the path down the mountain was nearly inaccessible even to a Witcher.

But Eskel didn’t pay that any heed as he followed the footprints of the white wolf down the mountain. He had seen Geralt storming down the corridors. Face a cloud of thunder, pain clear in his amber eyes. Geralt hadn’t even bothered grabbing a thick cloak against the biting wind, just pushed opened the entrance doors, the bang echoing in the corridors as he stormed out of the keep. The doors had been left swinging in the wind and Eskel had felt worry grab him as he grabbed his own cloak and Lambert before following Geralt out.

“Fucking finally.” Lambert growled, speeding his footsteps to pass Eskel to where Geralt was standing, arms against a tree as he bent to look at the floor. His shoulders where shaking but Eskel didn’t think it was from the cold. Worry clawed at him again and he quickened his pace so he was next to Geralt at the same time as Lambert.

The 3 wolves stood for a few moments in silence. Eskel and Lambert looking at Geralt with growing concern as the white haired Witcher didn’t even seem to notice their presence. Eskel, Geralt and Lambert had known each other since they had all gone through the trials. They had trained with each other for years, they were brothers. But never once in those many long years had either Eskel or Lambert been able to sneak up on Geralt without the white-haired Witcher being aware of them. Something was very wrong.

“What the fuck happened?” Lambert broke the silence. There was anger in his tone but Eskel didn’t let that fool him. Lamber showed he cared through that anger.

“Jaskier...fuck...he’s...fuck.” Geralt growled, punching his fist into the tree in front of him. The whole tree shook violently from the force of Geralt’s punch it Geralt didn’t seem to notice, just resting his head onto the tree again.

“What’s wrong with him?” Lambert growled, voice fully serious now. Eskel could understand the sentiment as worry filled him as well. If there was something wrong with Jaskier then Eskel didn’t think Geralt would ever recover from it. Fuck, Eskel didn’t think any of the Witcher’s would. The bard had snuck into their hearts completely and efficiently and their wasn’t a Witcher alive today to not hold the bard dear in their hearts.

‘Geralt, is Jaskier ok?” Eskel said, voice calm as he placed a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt’s whole shoulder shook, anger and pain rolling off him as he turned pain filled amber eyes to Eskel. Eskel had seen Geralt look like this 3 whole times in his life. The first when the Witchers had made Geralt their leader, the second when Geralt had returned from Cintra with Ciri by his side for the first time, and the third when he had found out Nilfgaard had taken Jaskier. Whatever was wrong with Jaskier must be bad for Geralt to look like this and Eskel felt fear for their bard fill him.

“He’s pregnant. He’s fucking pregnant.” Geralt growled, slamming his fist once more into the tree. And Eskel felt relief flood him. Jaskier was fine, he wasn’t dying or missing. Except Geralt’s reaction suggested that Jaskier was, and with that thought terrifying clarity filled Eskel. Witchers were sterile, Geralt couldn’t get Jaskier pregnant. Which meant...

“Those fucking bastards!” Lambert raged, slamming his fist into the nearest tree before pacing angrily. “I’ll kill them. I’ll fucking bring them back from the dead and fucking tear them fucking apart.” Lambert seethed.

“Is Jaskier ok?” Eskel asked, he couldn’t only imagine what Jaskier was feeling right now.

Geralt just shook his head, glaring at the snow in front of him. It was Lambert who answered. “Of course he fucking isn’t. How could he be? Fuck those Nilfgaardian bastards.”

“Where are you going?” Eskel shouted as Lambert started to move back up the path. Lambert swung back round to glare at them.

“Back to Kaer Morhen to talk to those fucking sorceresses.” Lambert growled before stalking his way back up the mountainside. Eskel sighed, knowing Lambert was about to make Triss and Yennefer’s life hell in his anger but he couldn’t bring himself to care right now. No, what was more concerning was the fact Geralt was out here rather than with Jaskier or yelling at Triss and Yennefer to fix this.

“Geralt, what aren’t you saying?” Eskel asked, voice softer as he squeezed Geralt’s shoulder. The white wolf swung his head up, amber eyes piercing Eskel with their intensity. And then suddenly Geralt just seemed to collapse, sagging against the tree as he stared at the ground once more.

“He’s going to die Eskel. That thing inside him is going to kill him.” The pain in Geralt’s voice was obvious.

“Geralt, people survive pregnancies all the time and I’m sure Yennefer and Triss can get rid of the baby before we even get to that point.” Eskel pointed out, unsure as to where Geralt was going with this.

“jaskier wants to keep it Eskel. He wants to fucking keep it.” Geralt glared at Eskel pain filled eyes bright in sadness and fear. “Fuck, Eskel I can’t lose him. I can’t fucking lose him.”

And Eskel wanted to be surprised that Jaskier wanted to keep the baby, he wanted to be but he couldn’t. of course Jaskier would want to keep it. Jaskier who saw the best in everyone he met, who loved everyone he met regardless of who or what they were. Jaskier who hadn’t flinched in the face of a single Witcher, hadn’t even flinched when he saw Eskel’s scar. No, Jaskier had just smiled that infectious smile of his and introduced himself to Eskel, not even seeming to acknowledge the scar which had every other human Eskel had ever met cringing away in fright or curling their lips up in distaste. So no, Eskel couldn’t be surprised that Jaskier wanted to keep his baby because Jaskier wouldn’t see the fact the baby was born because he had been raped. No, all Jaskier would see was a tiny innocent child, his child who he would always love.

“You’re not going to lose him.” Eskel promised even though he knew he couldn’t make that promise.

“You’ve seen him Eskel. Fuck he looks half dead already.” Geralt growled, anger radiating from him and Eskel couldn’t deny it. They had all been watching for the last month Jaskier slowly fade away from whatever sickness ailed him. Except it wasn’t a sickness, it was a pregnancy.

“We don’t know anything about pregnancies.” Eskel pointed out, squeezing Geralt’s shoulder re-assuredly. “But maybe we should look into it. It might help alleviate some fears.”

“He’s pregnant with a monster Eskel.” Geralt growled and Eskel felt his heart clench, hoping against hope that Geralt hadn’t said this to Jaskier. Except of course he had because if he said anything else then Geralt would be with Jaskier now, not standing in the middle of the path freezing his bollocks off.

“It’s not a monster Geralt. It’s a baby and omegas have babies all the time.” Eskel tugged at Geralt’s arm, starting to lead him back up the path. Geralt allowed himself to be pulled and Eskel sighed a breath of relief. Geralt could be mor stubborn than a wyvern over a kill sometimes.

“You really think jaskier will be ok?” Geralt asked, voice hesitant and Eskel nodded his head.

“Absolutely. Jaskier’s to stubborn to die.” This received a small hesitant smile from Geralt and Eskel found the smile bolstered his courage as he slapped a hand on Geralt’s back. He just hoped something in the library could reassure Geralt that Jaskier would be fine and the first few months of Jaskier’s pregnancy had only been a blip.

.......

Ciri knew something was wrong. Jaskier had been ill for weeks now. He’d been picking at his food and Ciri knew that he hadn’t been able to keep much of it down. She hated it. Jaskier didn’t deserve to be sick on top of everything he gone through, not now he was getting better. Except Ciri couldn’t deny something was wrong. Something which by the looks of it had gotten so much worse.

Jaskier hadn’t come down for breakfast that day. Not an uncommon occurrence, jaskier wasn’t exactly what you would call a morning person. Ciri smirked at the few times Jaskier had had to get up before dawn when he would spend hours moaning and complaining about why anyone would want to be up so early in the morning. Except that morning Ciri couldn’t help but feel worry fill her. Especially when she saw Geralt come down, grab a plate of food and whisper a few quiet words to Yennefer and Triss.

When the 2 sorceresses had left the great hall, Ciri had made her mind up to follow them. it was pure luck that she had come down this morning in a dress, her silent code to tell the Witchers that she wouldn’t be training today, so she was free to follow Triss and Yennefer without any awkward questions from the Witchers. Not that she thought they’d stop her, they were as worried about Jaskier as she was. The dress had been Triss’ idea when Ciri had first started to bleed, stating it was a way from Ciri having any further embarrassing conversations with the Witchers. She didn’t think she had ever seen Geralt blush as hard as he had when she had had that conversation with him. Jaskier had helped Triss find the dresses for Ciri, the one she was wearing today being a dark emerald green dress that brought her eyes out. He had found it in a small village and had bought it with the coin he had earned from his last few performances in the village inns. It was one of Ciri’s favourite dresses.

Ciri kept her distance from the room, trying to sharpen her hearing to listen in on what was being said behind the closed room of Geralt and Jaskier’s room. Except the words were muffled by the large wooden door ad Ciri didn’t have the Witchers enhanced hearing to hear past it. She cursed the door, moving closer to try and hear anything but at that moment the door banged open.

Ciri crouched low in the darkness, fear running through her as she saw Geralt standing at the door. The door closed behind him, leaving him highlighted in the darkness. His amber eyes were blazing with pain, body hunched in anger and sorrow. He stood there for a long time and Ciri was half tempted to go to him and try and comfort him as Geralt had done for her so many times. Except something held her back. So instead she crouched watching as Geralt stood their for long minutes, head bent as he listened to the muffled words behind the closed door. And then he was storming away.

Ciri remained in her hiding spot, torn between running after Geralt and storming into the room which held Jaskier. Something had so obviously upset Geralt, something Ciri was sure had to do with Jaskier. And as much as she wanted to try and comfort Geralt she felt the sudden urgent need to know what was wrong with Jaskier fill her. Without pausing to even knock, Ciri pushed the door to Jaskier and Geralt’s bedchambers aside.

“Ciri, what are you doing here?” Yennefer turned violet eyes onto her, anger in her voice as she quite clearly told Ciri through her eyes that she shouldn’t be here. But Ciri didn’t notice, her eyes were fixed on Jaskier. He was sitting on the bed, hand resting on his stomach, blue eyes red from crying. His brown hair was a mess and he was still in his bedclothes.

“What’s going on?” Ciri winced at the childlike quality in her voice. She was 14 now, had presented. She wasn’t a little girl anymore but in the face of Jaskier looking so distressed she felt herself slip back into that role. 

“It’s ok.” Jaskier murmured, smiling at Ciri but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Come over here Ciri.” Ciri did so, instantly taking Triss’ place as the brown haired sorceress moved. She took Jaskier’s hand in hers, for clenching her. Jaskier was getting better. He was better. So why was he so upset.

“What’s wrong?” Ciri asked, “Are you ok? I saw Geralt leaving, did something happen?” jaskier smiled, his smile a little sad as he held out his arms in invitation. Ciri didn’t hesitate, throwing herself into the hug. Jaskier softly scented her neck and she felt some of the tension leave her. Jaskier had always been good at that. Every time she had had a nightmare as a child Jaskier had always managed to clam her down, let her know she was safe wrapped in his or Geralt’s or Yennefer’s arms. Except she wasn’t a child anymore, and she knew something was wrong. “Please tell me the truth.” Ciri whispered.

When jaskier had been brought back to kaer Morhen after his kidnapping Ciri knew the Witchers hadn’t told her the truth abut what had happened to him. She knew because she had heard their whispered conversations in the corridors when they thought she wasn’t their, had heard the horrible truth from the same mouths that had lied and said Jaskier had just been hurt. He hadn’t just been hurt, he’d been raped. During his heat and while Ciri may only be 14 years old and as sheltered as anyone could be living in Kaer Morhen, she wasn’t a fool. She knew what that word meant.

Jaskier chuckled softly at Ciri’s words, letting Ciri pull back softly but still keeping a grip on her hand as he smiled at her. Yennefer had moved to seat on Jaskier’s other side, violet eyes watching them both with concern and it must be bad if Yennefer was concerned. Yennefer who was like a stone wall in her expressions.

“It’s complicated.” Jaskier started but Ciri shook her head, interrupting him before he finished.

“The truth. Please don’t lie to me.” Ciri begged and Jaskier squeezed her hand softly.

“Oh little lion cub, we would never lie to you. It’s just sometimes the truth isn’t suitable for your ears.” Jaskier smiled softly but there was pain in his blue eyes.

“I’m not a child anymore Jask.” Ciri squeezed Jaskier’s hands in hers. Geralt, Yennefer and Jaskier had always stopped her from calling them her parents. It didn’t matter that they where the only people she truly remembered raising her. They all wanted to keep the memory of her real parents and Grandmother alive in her mind, not to replace them with themselves. it made Ciri love them even more, even though secretly she always thought of Yennefer as her Mum, Geralt as her Dad and Jaskier as her Papa.

“No you aren’t.” Jaskier’s eyes turned a little sad at that thought, hand stroking his stomach idly.

“She’ll find out eventually.” Yennefer said, voice soft as she looked at Ciri. “And Ciri is right, she isn’t a child anymore.” Yennefer had always treated Ciri like a grown up, even as a child Yennefer had expected Ciri to have a certain level of maturity. After all, sorceresses didn’t act childish. Ciri hadn’t always appreciated it but right now she did.

Jaskier sighed, taking his hand from Ciri’s and running it through his hair. “I...I’m pregnant.” Jaskier said and Ciri felt shock build in her. Jaskier was pregnant, but that was impossible.

“I...I thought Witchers were sterile.” Ciri whispered, regretting her words instantly as a flash of anger sparked in Yennefer’s eyes and Jaskier’s shoulders slumped,heartbreak in his eyes.

“They...they are Ciri.” Jaskier sighed, taking her hands in his and squeezing softly. Ciri just looked at him in confusion. “I know we didn’t tell you the truth of what happened when...when the Nilfgaardian’s took me.” Jaskier’s voice was hesitant, pain filled as he spoke and Ciri could only stare dumbfounded as he forced the words out. “But you’re a clever girl.”

“Of course she is. She’s my daughter.” Yennefer interjected. Ciri felt her face flush at the pride in Yennefer’s eyes at those words before she turned back to Jaskier.

“That’s true.” Jaskier chucked, but the laugh was forced as he let out a harsh breath. “I didn’t want to tell you the truth Ciri, none of us did. We wanted to protect you from knowing but...but...”

“I know what happened.” Ciri suddenly said, not wanting to hear Jaskier say those words. “I heard the Witchers talking about it.” She dropped her gaze to the covers in shame but Jaskier placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face to meet his eyes.

“Don’t apologise for being curious. If anyone should be sorry it’s me, I didn’t want you to find out what happened.” Jaskier sighed, letting his finger drop from Ciri’s face and drop ack to his stomach. His stomach which was were the baby was growing.

“I...I still don’t understand.” Ciri said. 

‘The men that...that hurtJaskier.” Yennefer continued, drawing Ciri’s attention from Jaskier, “They did what they did during Jaskier’s heat. You know from you’re studied that when a male omega is in heat...”. Here Yennefer trailed off as understanding filled Ciri’s mind. Those men that had hurt Jaskier had gotten him pregnant.

“No. No, that’s not true. It can’t be.” Ciri yelled, jumping from the bed as she stared at Yennefer in horror, wishing for Yennefer to say it was a lie. That Jaskier wasn’t really pregnant.

“I’m sorry Ciri, but it is.” Triss said, speaking for the first time. Her eyes were filled with pain and sadness but Ciri couldn’t see that past her own tears.

“I’m so sorry Jaskier. This is all my fault.” Ciri whispered, heart breaking as she realised the truth. Those Nilfgaardian’s had been after her and Jaskier had paid the price for them not taking her. not only had they...they raped him but they had left him pregnant. With a child. Jaskier must hate her. She back away slowly, tears running down her face as she shook her head in horror.

“Ciri, lion cub, come here.” Jaskier had moved from the bed and was now standing. Standing Ciri could see how thin he had gotten. Jaskier had always been lean but ow his clothes seemed to sag against his body, his face was gaunt. And from the angle he stood Ciri could see the slight swell in his stomach. She had done that. This was her fault. “Ciri, it’s ok.”

And Ciri found herself running and clinging to Jaskier as the omega hugged her fiercely to his chest. “I’m so sorry Jaskier, this is all my fault.” Ciri sobbed, unable to control the tears running down her face. 

“Nothing is your fault cub, nothing.” Jaskier soothed, running a comforting hand down her hair. “And...”. Jaskier hesitated for a moment before continuing. “A baby isn’t so bad.”

“You’re going to keep it?” Ciri demanded, regretting the words instantly as she felt Jaskier’s hands drop from where they had been holding her. “No.” Ciri shouted with more force than needed, panic in her voice. “I...I mean you want to keep it.”

“Yes.” Jaskier’s answer was so quiet Ciri wouldn’t have heard it if she wasn’t currently holding Jaskier in a fierce hug and the word was whispered near her ear.

“Then I want you to keep it.” Ciri stated, surety fill her. If this is what Jaskier wants then Ciri wouldn’t say anything against it.

“You...you don’t mind me keeping it?” Jaskier’s voice was hesitant and Ciri hugged Jaskier tighter.

“No. I want you to be happy and if you want to keep the baby then you should.” Jaskier sniffed softly into her hair, grip tightening minutely. “You’ll make a great Father Jaskier.” Ciri said, knowing it was true. Jaskier had helped Geralt and Yennefer raise her. No one had asked him to but he had done it and in Ciri’s very biased opinion he had done a fantastic job. S he had no doubt that Jaskier would be the best Father possible to this baby.

Him and Geralt both.

..........

Triss sat on an armchair, watching as Ciri and Yennefer talked softly next to Jaskier’s bed. Jaskier had drifted off to sleep a little while ago, face relaxed in slumber, hand rested softly on his stomach where the baby grew. Triss pushed back the sigh that threatened to follow that thought, turning her head instead back to the book she had been unsuccessfully trying to read.

Cir had taken Jaskier being pregnant as well as could be expected, better even. But she had taken Geralt’s refusal of Jaskier’s pregnancy and insistency that Jaskier get rid of the baby less so. When jaskier had finally fallen asleep, Yennefer had taken Ciri out of the room into the corridor to tell her why Geralt wasn’t here. Triss hadn’t listened, hadn’t needed to to know Ciri’s reaction to the news. The thunderous look, so much like Yennefer’s own gaze when Geralt had demanded Triss to get rid of the baby told Triss all she needed to know.

The problem was, Triss understood Geralt’s anger. She felt it to. The need to be rid of the child that was hurting Jaskier. Jaskier was her friend, her family and no one could deny the first 4 months of his pregnancy had been hard for him. It probably didn’t help that they hadn’t known Jaskier was even pregnant, a fact Triss berated herself heavily for because she should have realised sooner. It was so obvious now she knew and she couldn’t believe she had missed it. She could only hope now they knew the reason behind Jaskier’s sickness that the next 5 months of his pregnancy would go smoother.

But still doubt lingered in her mind. pregnancies were hard, especially for male omegas. There was a chance even with Yennefer and Triss’ help that Jaskier might not survive and if he didn’t, what then? Who would raise the baby? Geralt? Geralt had shown his thoughts on the baby inside Jaskier the minute he had found out his omega was pregnant. He had called the baby a monster and while Triss would never think of an innocent baby that way she couldn’t help but think there was some truth in Geralt’s words.

The baby had been conceived from Jaskier being raped and no matter what you thought there was no getting away from that fact. Jaskier had been raped and was now pregnant. if that had been Triss she wouldn’t have hesitated to tell them to get rid of the child or even done it herself if Yennefer refused. But then, Jaskier was...he was Jaskier. He didn’t see monsters where everyone else did. And not only that but Jaskier was strong, stronger and braver than she ever could be. If anyone could have a child conceived from something so horrific and still love that baby it was Jaskier.

It was a mess. It was all a giant mess that had no clear fix and no clear right or wrong answer. Geralt was right for wanting the baby gone and Jaskier was right for wanting to keep the baby. 

A loud bang at the door had Triss startle. Jaskier stirred in the bed but didn’t wake, thankfully. The omega needed his rest, he’d gone through a lot of emotional turmoil today to say the least. Honestly, Triss was surprised jaskier hadn’t lost the baby yet from the stress of finding out the baby even existed. A part of her wished he would lose the baby, because wouldn’t that be the best solution for all of this.

“I’ll get it.” Triss said, standing up and motioning for Yennefer and Ciri to sit back down. Yennefer nodded, violet eyes turning to look at Jaskier with fierce protectiveness. Triss pretended to ignore that look, knowing Yennefer was only acting this way because of her longing for her own child. Jaskier wouldn’t have a better protector for his baby that Yennefer because Yennefer wouldn’t let anyone take that child away from Jaskier, Triss doubted even Jaskier would have a choice if he decided he didn’t want to have that child.

As Triss opened the door, she was shocked to find Lambert stalking up and down the corridor. Until now the Witchers had stayed clear of the room, Triss suspected Vesemir of that as the old Witcher had always had the most common sense out of the lot. Triss quietly closed the door behind her and as the door closed, Lambert lifted anger filled amber eyes to fix Triss with a fierce angry glare.

“Is it true Merigold?” Lambert asked and Triss didn’t need to ask what Lambert meant by that question. She nodded and Lambert cursed, punching the wall behind him. Blood dribbled down his knuckles as he growled angrily. “Get rid of it.”

“No.” Triss replied. Despite her won feeling son the situation at the end of the day none of this was her choice, or anyone’s for that matter. Jaskier had decided to keep the baby and he was the only person who had the right to make that decision.

“Merigold.” Lambert growled but Triss stood firm, back to the door and blocking Lambert from going through there. “It’s a fucking monster inside Jaskier, not a fucking baby. it needs to die.” lambert growled and Triss bristled.

“This isn’t’ your choice to make. It’s Jaskier’s choice.” Triss growled, gathering her chaos ready to throw Lambert across the corridor if need be. Truth be told she’d rather enjoy doing it.

“Jaskier’s not his right mind to make that fucking choice.” Lambert growled, slamming a fist into the wall once more. “Fuck Merigold, you know it’s the right thing to do.” 

“It’s not.” Triss growled because there was no choice, not the way she saw it. Jaskier had made his decision and that was all that mattered, Triss would support that decision with her last dying breath. “You need to leave.”

“No.” Lambert growled, stalking forwards so his face was inches from her own. Triss didn’t hesitate, blasting him with chaos and sending the Witcher backwards. Lambert flew into the adjacent wall, shouting in anger as he stood up. Triss didn’t flinch.

“Stay away from here Lambert. This isn’t your choice.” Lambert growled and for a second Triss through he might try to get past her again but he didn’t. Instead Lambert stalked back down the corridor, anger radiating off his every move.

.......

Fuck Merigold. And fuck those fucking Nilfgaardian bastards. Lambert growled, punching the wall in front of him. Ignoring the blood dripping down his knuckles, Lambert punched the wall again. Fuck every single one of those fucking alphas that had hurt their fucking bard. Had raped their fucking bard. Fuck them, every single one. And that fucking monster growing inside Jaskier to. Fuck that monster that was sapping the life out of Jaskier every fucking day.

And of course Jaskier wanted to keep the baby. The fucking bard wouldn’t try and befriend the first monster he saw. He did befriend the first fucking monster he saw. So obviously, Jaskier’s opinion on this counted for jack-shit, why Merigold couldn’t see that was beyond Lambert.

Lambert had never understood Jaskier. never understood why this bright vibrant optimistic omega wanted to spend his life in Kaer Morhen, mated to a Witcher, surrounded by fucking Witchers. They weren’t cuddly fucking alphas, they were dangerous. Very fucking dangerous.

Which was why when Geralt had first brought Jaskier to Kaer Morhen Lambert had started a bet on how long it would take Jaskier to run from them. Letho had bet by the end of winter. Aidan seemed to think the bard would stick around until the start of the next winter. Aukes thought he’d las a few weeks after winter for appearance sakes. And Lambert, fuck Lambert had thought the bard would go running down the path within the month, despite the fact the path was nearly inaccessible this time of year. 

He had been wrong, of course. They all had been.

But how the fuck they were supposed to know that no matter what they did jaskier wouldn’t run, Lambert had no fucking clue. No the bard had stayed so much longer than any of them thought. Fuck, Jaskier had even fallen in love with Geralt. And lambert was happy for them. He liked the bard, the man was pack. Family. But it still didn’t take away the fact that Lambert could never understand why Jaskier stayed.

The only reason Lambert had thought Jaskier stayed was a mixture of a need for stories for his songs and a serious lack of self preservation. But within 2 weeks of Jaskier being in Kaer Morhen that theory had been destroyed. Jaskier had befriended every Witcher he met within minutes. Fuck, he had even gotten Lambert’s friendship and it was perhaps Lambert’s most valued one because Jaskier didn’t see him as a monster, didn’t see any of them as monsters even if that was what they were.

Which was why Jaskier should not be making this decision. Because of cause Jaskier wanted to keep the baby, the omega had no self preservation to speak of not to mention a need to love and befriend everything your not supposed to.

But this wasn’t a normal monster. That baby wasn’t a Witcher who would lay down their life before they even thought of hurting their bard. This wasn’t even a fucking basilisk who Lambert or any other fucking Witcher could kill to protect their bard. No this was a baby that was slowly but surely sucking the life from their bard and there was nothing any of them could do about it.

Lambert punched the wall in anger, not caring that dust blew from the bricks and his fist was now a bloodied mess.

“Careful, the wall might fight back.” Aidan laughed, grinning broadly. Lambert swung round to face him, eyes glaring at the Witcher. Aidan didn’t flinch but his eyes did turn concerned as he looked at Lambert. “You ok there?”

“Jaskier’s fucking pregnant.” Lambert seethed, anger boiling in him at the words. “Those Nilfgaardian fuckers got him fucking pregnant.”

“Shit.” Aidan breathed. “Does Geralt know?” Lambert grunted in confirmation. Geralt had looked so fucking heartbroken and of course he did. His mate was refusing to kill the one thing that was killing him. “Triss and Yennefer can...”

“They won’t.” Lambert growled, already knowing what Aidan was about to say. “Jaskier wants to keep it.”

“Fuck. Why?” Aidan asked, anger and confusion warring on his face.

“Because he’s a fucking idiot.” Lambert growled.

“Is that why he’s been sick?” Aidan asked and when Lambert nodded the cat Witcher growled low and angry. “Fuck, we need to get that monster out of him.”

And Lambert, despite the situation they found themselves in and despite the anger growing inside him, smiled. Finally, someone fucking saw the truth he had seen the minute Geralt had said Jaskier was pregnant.

...............

Vesemir was sitting in the library when Eskel and Geralt stormed in. Both had identical looks of anger and pain on their faces and Vesemir found himself slowly standing, hand going to where his sword would usually sit. The looks on his pups face shouted that there was a threat in the keep. had someone been hurt. Ciri, she was always going places she shouldn’t had she hurt herself. Or Jaskier, their omega had been looking iller and iller these last few weeks and Vesemir couldn’t help but feel worry pang through him that something had happened and Jaskier had gotten worse.

“What happened?” Vesemir demanded. Geralt didn’t answer, growling low in his throat as he stormed into the stacks, obviously in search of something, what Vesemir had no idea.

“Jaskier’s pregnant.” Eskel stated and then looked at Vesemir in complete surprise when the older Witcher said nothing in response.

“I suspected as much.” Vesemir sighed, sitting back onto the table. Eskel looked at him in astonishment and Vesemir sighed. His pups obviously needed re-training on basic biology if they hadn’t seen this coming. Honestly, Vesemir was surprised it had taken this long for Yennefer and Triss to realise the truth, at least he suspected they had realised it as they were the only ones except Jaskier who could know for certain. And, well, Jaskier hadn’t been in much of a state to realise the truth these last 4 months. To busy recovering from his ordeal, which still had Vesemir’s hackles rising at the thought of what Jaskier had gone through.

“I wasn’t certain, that’s why I didn’t say anything.” Vesemir continued, eyes tracking Geralt as the white-haired Witcher stalked along the stacks of books. “But I did suspect something like this could happen.”

Eskel deposited himself on the chair next to him, eyes following Geralt along the stacks as well. Geralt seemed completely oblivious to them as he did so. “Jaskier wants to keep the baby.”

“I would have been surprised if he didn’t.” Vesemir admitted. Vesemir sighed, running a hand through his grey hair. Anyone who bought Jaskier wouldn’t love this baby, would want to keep it was a fool. “Judging by Geralt being here I take it our white wolf didn’t take that well.”

Eskel shook his head in confirmation and Vesemir sighed. It wasn’t a surprise to the old Witcher either. He had watched Geralt and Jaskier’s relationship blossom, watched as Jaskier brought love to Geralt, to all their, lives. It was no wonder Geralt would take anything that might harm Jaskier badly, Geralt loved Jaskier too much to be able to fathom loosing him.

“I thought there might be something that could persuade Geralt Jaskier would be ok.” Eskel sighed and Vesemir nodded his head. Eskel had always been one of the more level headed Witchers and while it was an ill-fated endeavour, Vesemir couldn’t help but admire the attempt.

Unfortunately Vesemir had spent the last few months researching omega pregnancies and, well the results had been grim to say the least. But he wouldn’t hide that face from Geralt, or Jaskier. They both deserved to know all the facts before a decision was reached, though he doubted his words would change anything. If he knew Jaskier as well as he thought then the omega would choose the baby’s life over his own and Geralt...well Vesemir already knew what Geralt thought front he frantic pacing the white-haired alpha was currently doing.

“He will be ok won’t he?” Eskel asked, doubt and worry in his voice. Vesemir didn’t answer, instead turning to Geralt and shouting the other Witcher over.

Geralt did so, radiating anger and pain and panic as he moved. “You want to know if Jaskier will survive this.” Vesemir stated, he’d never been one to beat around the bush and this wasn’t the time to start doing so. Geralt grunted in affirmative and Vesemir nodded, standing up.

He grabbed the one book in the whole library that held details regarding omegas. Vesemir had devoured the book the first week Jaskier had ever come to keep, wanting to know exactly what having an omega in Kaer Morhen would mean. It turned out though that the book was nearly completely inaccurate, either that or Jaskier was just one of a kind which Vesemir could believe. The book had detailed omegas as being subservient, timid and quiet; none of which Jaskier was. If anything the omega was loud, brash and unashamed of anything. 

The only things the book had gotten right where the specific biologies of omegas. Their heats, reproductive systems and the like. From this and Vesemir’s limited knowledge around pregnant humans Vesemir had drawn a rather grim conclusion.

“What is this?” Geralt growled, glaring at the book that Vesemir had placed in front of him.

“I’ve bookmarked the pages about omega pregnancies.” Vesemir explained. Geralt grabbed the book instantly, pulling open the pages Vesemir had indicated with a leather bookmark. Vesemir took a seat next to Eskel, watching as Geralt’s eyes furrowed. The further Geralt read the angrier his expression became before he slammed the book onto the table. Vesemir knew he hadn’t read it all but apparently it had been enough for Geralt to understand.

“The book isn’t accurate on a lot of things.” Vesemir started. “It may not be accurate here as well.” Geralt wasn’t listening, amber eyes ablaze with anger and pain.

“Jaskier might die.” Geralt growled, voice filled with more pain than Vesemir had ever heard before.

“It’s possible. But from what I understand it’s always a possibility in pregnancies. Male omegas are just...”

“More inclined to fucking die.” Geralt interrupted with a snarl. “Fuck, Jaskier needs to know.”

“You really think that will change his choice?” Vesemir asked. Front he look that crossed Geralt’s face Vesemir knew Geralt didn’t.

“I can’t lose him.” Geralt’s voice broke here, staring at Vesemir in a way he hadn’t since he was a boy just before taking the trial of the grasses. 

“And we will do everything to make sure he won’t. He’ll have Yennefer and Triss to help him, they won’t let him die.” Vesemir stood up now, coming to place a hand on Geralt’s shoulder but the white-haired alpha shook him off, shaking his head. “Jaskier needs to with him Geralt, you know that.” Vesemir shuddered to think of how jaskier might spiral if he as left alone to deal with this pregnancy.

“I can’t let him die.” Geralt murmured, amber eyes pleading at Vesemir. “I can’t let that monster inside him kills him.”

“Geralt, Jaskier needs you to help him through this.” Eskel tried but Geralt shook his head, backing away from the room.

“No, Jaskier needs me to kill that monster.” Geralt growled.

“If you kill that baby, Jaskier will never forgive you.” Vesemir tired, worry spiking through him. If Geralt killed that baby it wouldn’t just destroy Geralt and Jaskier’s relationship, it would destroy Jaskier himself. Jaskier who loved to deeply and cared too much for anyone he met. It would break him if Geralt killed the baby he was carrying. “Geralt, I know it’s hard but it isn’t our choice.”

“Whose is it then? Jaskier?” Geralt shouted. “Jaskier can’t make this choice, he’s to emotional. He cares to much. He can’t be trusted to make this choice.”

“Geralt, you can’t save him from everything.” Vesemir tried, voice gentle. Geralt reeled back from Vesemir’s words as if Vesemir had physically punched him.

“I can’t let him die.” Geralt whispered and before Vesemir or Eskel could say another word he had stormed out of the room.

Vesemir could only watch with pain and fear in his heart. Jaskier and Geralt deserved so much better than this. The only thing Vesemir could ask for was that Geralt would see sense and Jaskier would forgive his alpha. But then jaskier forgiving Geralt wasn’t the problem, the bard had far too big of a heart to do anything but forgive him. No, the biggest problem was getting Geralt to admit that that baby wasn’t a threat to Jaskier. The threat was Geralt and anyone else who tired to take that baby from Jaskier.

........

Geralt didn’t stop until he was as far from the library as he could. When he looked up, he realised his feet had taken him down into the depths of Kaer Morhen. Past the hot springs and into the old laboratory. No one had been Dow here since the last mage had been killed off. This was where the trial of the grasses had taken place. The room was a mess of broken glass and wood. A thick layer of dust settled on anything that wasn’t broken. Distantly, Geralt remembered the mages hadn’t given in without a fight, destroying most of their research in the process.

Geralt felt his legs give out, leaving him kneeling in the room which had made him a Witcher.

Fuck, Jaskier was going to die. His mate, his Jaskier was going to die and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop that. It didn’t matter that Triss and Yennefer would be there to help, didn’t matter that Jaskier was stubborn and would fight to live to the very last second. None of that mattered because one fact was true above anything else. Jaskier would let himself die to save his baby. To save the monster growing inside him.

Geralt didn’t think he had ever hated anything so much in his entire life than that thing that was slowly counting down the days to Jaskier’s last breath. Geralt had to kill it. Vesemir had been right, Geralt couldn’t save Jaskier from everything. Had proved it when Nilfgaard kidnapped Jaskier. But Geralt would save Jaskier now. 

If it was the last thing Geralt did, he would make sure Jaskier lived. Even if his mate lived to hate him for it because at least Jaskier would be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the reviews and thank you for reading. I hope you all enjoyed.


	7. Chapter 7

“Stop being so stubborn.” Yennefer angrily growled at Jaskier as said bard continued to pull on his boots, regardless of Yennefer’s anger. It had been nearly a week since Jaskier had found out he was pregnant and he hadn’t left the confines of his and Geralt’s bedroom since. Yennefer, Triss and Ciri had made sure to bring everything he needed up to his rooms to make sure he didn’t need to. But it was starting to drive him slowly insane with nothing to do but stare at the four walls around him.

“Yennefer, I’m fine. I just want to go for a short walk.” Jaskier sighed. Jaskier had always hated being caged into one place. He had always longed for adventure and the open path in front of him, which was probably why he had been so drawn to the Witchers in the first place. Being locked in his room with only Yennefer, Triss and Ciri for company had fast become boring. That and being forced to sit in bed all day doing nothing was forcing Jaskier’s mind to consider things that he really didn’t want to be thinking about. Namely the complete lack of Geralt in his rooms.

“Jaskier, I’m just thinking of the baby.” Yennefer sighed and Jaskier felt his hands subconsciously come to settle on the small bump on his stomach. Triss had given him a potion, promising that it wouldn’t hurt the baby in any way, for Jaskier’s morning sickness and the omega had finally been able to start eating properly again. All in all, Triss was pleased and kept saying jaskier would be back to full health in no time.

“Yenn, the baby will be fine.” Jaskier promised. He tried for a smile but that didn’t stop Yennefer’s glare on him. 

“The Witchers aren’t happy Jaskier.” Yennefer growled, voice low and angry. Jaskier dropped his head, feeling pain blossom in his chest but he resolutely pushed it aside. Those feelings weren’t good for the baby and Jaskier had made the decision not to dwell on anything that might upset him in order to keep the baby safe. Except Jaskier couldn’t help but dwell on those exact feelings, namely the feeling of complete and utter abandonment which kept growing the longer Geralt was away. Which was precisely why he needed to get out of this room and distract himself.

“I know they’re not.” Jaskier said, trying to keep his voice light despite the heaviness in his heart. He knew his pregnancy was affecting the whole keep and he hated it. Hated that he was hurting the people he loved most but what could he do. Jaskier gently stroked the tiny bump a little, smiling softly at the thought of the tiny baby in his stomach. It was all just so hard to believe.

“I’m just worried Jaskier.” Yennefer sighed again. Jaskier stood up, taking Yennefer’s hands in his and squeezing softly. Yennefer hadn’t left his side since they’d found out about the baby and Jaskier couldn’t help but smile at the fierce protectiveness in Yennefer’s gaze anytime she spoke about the baby.

“The baby will be fine and you can come with me if you want?” That seemed to belly some of Yennefer’s confirmed as she nodded. Jaskier smiled as Yennefer pulled on the long grey coat, linking her hand through Jaskier’s and letting the omega set the pace for their walk through Kaer Morhen.

.....

Geralt grunted as he stroked Roach’s coat down with the brush. He and Roach had been away from the keep for a few days, Geralt needing to get some much needed distance from everything. He hadn’t seen Jaskier since finding out about the pregnancy but Geralt, as attuned to his mate as he was, couldn’t help but smell Jaskier’s scent at every corner of the keep. The scent of his omega made the longing in Geralt’s heart grow larger and larger, a feeling that wouldn’t abate for anything short of holding his mate tight in his arms. Except Jaskier didn’t want that. Jaskier was scared of him.

Geralt sighed, burying his head into Roach’ mane. The mare snorted and Geralt smiled. “You miss him to do you?” Geralt smiled before continuing to brush down Roach.

He had set out on the hunting trip 5 days ago and everything just felt so much worse. He had thought the time alone would be good for him, give him time to think about everything. But all it had done was make the pit of longing and loneliness in him since Jaskier had told him to leave grow larger and larger.

Every moment of silence reminded Geralt of what was missing. The strum of talented fingers of lute springs. The sound of singing running through known songs or working at new music. The constant chatter or humming to fill in the silence. The feeling of hands wrapping around his waist just to remind Geralt he wasn’t alone. The faint scent of honeysuckle and camomile in the air, in his clothes, in his bedding. Jaskier. Jaskier was missing. 

Geralt had walked the path for years alone with only Roach for company but now the silence of his own thoughts drove him mad. It didn’t help that Geralt could still feel Jaskier in their soul bond. Could feel the despair in Jaskier that was so very very wrong. Jaskier was always happy, always pouring love and happiness through their bond. Now. Fuck, now all Geralt could feel was Jaskier’s doubt and pain and the acute feeling of abandonment. It made Geralt want to run back to Kaer Morhen and wrap his arms around jaskier and apologise for everything that had happened.

Except he couldn’t. Not when the very thought of what was growing inside Jaskier made Geralt burn with white hot rage.

Ciri had found him the morning before Geralt had packed Roach’s saddle bags and left Kaer Morhen for the icy cold of the mountainside. She had been furious, emerald eyes blazing in the exact way Yennefer’s did when the violet eyed sorceress was angry. “Apologise to Jaskier.” Ciri had shouted at him, anger pouring off her as she stood glaring at him. Geralt didn’t think he could ever feel intimidated by a small 14 year old girl before but he had seriously underestimated Ciri’s ability to roll his own and Yennefer’s glare into one, creating one that would have had most Witchers cowering in fear.

“Ciri, are you ok?” Geralt hadn’t seen Ciri since the day they found out about Jaskier’s pregnancy. She had locked herself away in Jaskier’s chambers and when she did come out she would ignore every Witcher she saw.

“You don’t get to ask that.” She shouted at him, emerald eyes glassy with tears. “You need to apologise for Jaskier and you need to promise you wont hurt his baby.”

“Ciri, that baby is hurting Jaskier.” Geralt sighed, trying to keep the anger from his tone. 

Ciri shook her head angrily, still glaring at Geralt. “No, you’re hurting Jaskier. You all are. He’s made a decision and you have to accept that.”

“It’s not that simple.” Geralt had sighed, watching as Ciri’s eyes narrowed and she turned on her heel and stalked away without a backwards glance.

Thinking back now, Geralt realised it was that simple. he stroked through Roach’s mane as he thought of Ciri’s words. He was hurting Jaskier, he knew that. Leaving jaskier when it was obvious his mate needed him was hurting Jaskier more than anything could. He didn’t need the soul bond to know the heartbreak Jaskier was feeling. No, the look on his mates face when Geralt had left the room that day was enough to tell him how Jaskier felt.

“What do you think Roach?” Geralt asked. Roach huffed and Geralt hummed. He wanted to apologise to jaskier. He wanted to go to Jaskier and hold him close and promise he would be there for him. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t sit back and watch Jaskier die for a monsters child. He wasn’t strong enough to do it.

.........

Jaskier was aware of the stares of the Witchers as they walked the halls. He could feel the anger bubbling in the surface and the more he and Yennefer walked down the halls the more he considered turning back and locking himself in his rooms. You could cut the air with a knife from the tension the Witchers gave off.

“Jaskier, are you ok?” Yennefer asked, eyes dropping to Jaskier’s stomach as Jaskier stopped his walking. He leant against a wall, eyes closed and breathing heavily. He couldn’t breath. The knowledge that everyone in the keep hated him, his family hated him for keeping this baby hurt so much more than anything else. He couldn’t stand seeing the Witchers anger filled looks. It didn’t matter that Jaskier logically new they did’t hate him, that it was the baby in his belly they hated because t Jaskier they were both the same thing. 

“I can’t do this Yenn.” Jaskier whispered. Feeling tears burn at his eyes. He thought he would be fine. But he hadn’t realised how badly the Witchers had taken his pregnancy. He had only heard what Triss, Yennefer and Ciri had mentioned when they thought he was asleep or what he had gathered from his conversations with them. Seeing that anger was another thing all together and it hurt.

Yenn was at his side in an instant, wrapping an arm around his own, violet eyes filled with concern. “We’ll get you back to your rooms.” She promised and Jaskier nodded, feeling a tear slide down his cheek at the nod.

His hand came to rest on his stomach as Yennefer all but pulled him back through the corridors of Kaer Morhen. Jaskier wasn’t aware of anything around him save for his own tormented thoughts. He hadn’t wanted this. He had never asked to be pregnant. He hadn’t fucking asked to be raped. But he couldn’t get rid of the baby, his baby. It was his baby, his flesh and blood and he loved them. He loved them and it hurt so much because it felt like he was the only one in the world who did.

Jaskier didn’t notice his arm drop from Yennefer’s grip as he knelt against the wall. Didn’t notice as Yennefer dropped onto her knees in front of him when his own knees gave out and he sank down the wall to sit on the cold hard floor. All he was aware of was his hand on the tiny swell of his stomach. All he could think of was his baby, his baby that was going to be born into a world that already hated them.

Jaskier sobbed at the thought, hand rubbing soothing circles around the baby. It didn’t matter that he would love the baby. All that mattered was that no one but Jaskier would be able to look at his baby and not see the monsters that had raped him. Jaskier couldn’t do this. He couldn’t raise his baby alone. And what i he died in childbirth. He wasn’t a fool, he knew it was a possibility and that thought made Jaskier sob harder. He didn’t care if he died, not if it meant his baby lived. No, all he could think was what would happen to his baby if he wasn’t there to protect them. 

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s pain worried filled voice filtered in Jaskier’s mind and suddenly Jaskier found himself wrapped in his alpha’s strong hold. All Jaskier could do was sob pitifully into Geralt’s neck.

........

The scent of honeysuckle and camomile in the air almost had Geralt turning back the way he had come and back to the stables. Anything to stop seeing that heartbroken look in Jaskier’s eyes again. Geralt was half turned around when he smelt the underlying scent of salt, tears. Jaskier was crying. Geralt didn’t think, just ran down the corridor to where he could now make out the muffled sobs of is mate.

Rounding the corner, Geralt stopped dead in his tracks at the sight. jaskier was sitting, face buried in his knees as he sobbed brokenly. Yennefer was knelt in front of him, eyes filled with panic as she tried to calm the sobbing omega.

Geralt made his way over to the pair, kneeling next to Yennefer and placing a gentle hand on Jaskier’s knee. Jaskier didn’t react, just kept sobbing into his knees. The pain filtering through the soul bond made Geralt’s heart break.

“Jaskier?” Geralt found himself saying and the next thing he knew he had an armful of sobbing omega. He wrapped his arms around Jaskier as Jaskier sobbed into his neck. “Fuck, Yenn. What happened?” Geralt growled, gently stroking a hand down Jaskier’s back.

“I don’t know.” Yennefer said, violet eyes looking at Jaskier in concern. “We were going back to his room and then he was just crying.”

Geralt grunted, arms tightening around Jaskier as Jaskier continued to sob into his neck. Despite the circumstances of finally having his mate in his arms again, Geralt felt some of the tension that had weighed heavily on his heart disappear. He had Jaskier in his arms again, that was what was important.

“You need to get him to calm down Geralt.” Yennefer spoke, her eyes still trained on Jaskier. “The stress will hurt the baby.”

And like that the feeling of having Jaskier in his arms again was soiled. Anger boiled in him at Yennefer’s words and sensing Geralt’s anger, Jaskier flinched violently tearing himself from Geralt’s hold. He looked at Geralt with wide wounded blue eyes as Geralt tried to keep the anger down so he could comfort Jaskier. But he couldn’t, not when his eyes dropped down to see the small bump pressed against Jaskier’s chemise.

.......

“Please don’t.” Jaskier whispered, not wanting to hear Geralt’s next words. He couldn’t take hearing Geralt’s hatred for Jaskier’s baby out loud. It was hard enough to feel that hatred filter through their soul bond.

“Jaskier...I...”. Jaskier shook his head stopping Geralt’s words in their track. 

“Please just stop it.” Jaskier whispered. He felt like his heart was breaking, looking at Geralt. Geralt’s amber eyes were ablaze with concern, hands outstretched as if to touch Jaskier and jaskier wanted nothing more than to throw himself back into Geralt’s embrace and let Geralt comfort him. But he Geralt couldn’t hide the hatred for Jaskier’s baby, not when it was pouring through the soul bond.

“I’m sorry Jask.” Geralt managed, standing on shaking legs. He looked at Jaskier, a torn look on his face and Jaskier sobbed again, his heart a physical pain with every beat. 

“Please don’t Geralt.” Jaskier whispered. He didn’t want Geralt to go. He needed his alpha, he needed Geralt. But Geralt would never accept Jaskier’s baby.

“I’m sorry.” Geralt whispered, pain on his face as he all but ran from Jaskier. Jaskier sobbed, the pain slicing through him. Distantly he felt Yennefer’s hand on his shoulder, telling him to calm down but he didn’t listen. He needed Geralt, he couldn’t do this without him but Geralt had gone. Geralt had abandoned him.

“Fuck,”. Eskel’s voice filtered in Jaskier’s ears and Jaskier flinched violently away from the scarred Witcher. The next sob had Jaskier choking on tears. He couldn’t take another of his Witchers rejections today. Not when Geralt had just left him. He couldn’t take their anger, their hatred towards his child any more. He couldn’t.

.......

Yennefer watched as Jaskier came undone before her, unable to control his broken sobs in the face of Geralt’s retreat. She had never felt such anger before now. If not for the fact that she couldn’t leave Jaskier alone like this she would have already gone after Geralt to confront him. 

“Fuck.” Eskel’s voice broke Yennefer from her thoughts and without thinking she jumped to her feet, standing protectively in front of the sobbing omega. No one would hurt Jaskier, no one would hurt that child while she was here.

“Leave, now.” Yennefer growled but Eskel shook his head. His amber eyes were filled with sadness, trained souls on Jaskier.

“I’m not going to hurt him. Or the baby.” Eskel promised but Yennefer didn’t believe him. No one wanted Jaskier to have this child. No one. Even Triss who was there every moment trying to comfort Jaskier didn’t. Yennefer could see her inner conflict every second Triss spent around Jaskier, the only reason Yennefer let her near the omega was because Triss wouldn’t do anything against Jaskier’s wishes. 

No, the only person who could be trusted to love and want this child more than Jaskier was herself and she would do everything in her power to make sure no one else hurt Jaskier’s baby. “Leave.” Yennefer growled.

“Yennefer, fuck. You’re not the only one who wants to help Jaskier.” Eskel started and Yennefer knew that was true. Ciri had been there every moment of every day and she had shown no hatred towards the baby. But she was 14, still a child herself. And no matter what she said, she didn’t understand the implications of what had happened to Jaskier. She didn’t understand why the whole keep hated this baby. 

“Jaskier doesn’t need another person to hate his baby.” Yennefer snarled.

“I don’t hate it Yennefer.” Eskel sighed, sadness flashing across his face. “I hate what those men did to Jaskier but I don’t hate Jaskier’s baby.” Eskel put as much emphasis on the word Jaskier as he could and Yennefer found the anger and protectiveness dropping from her.

Reluctantly, she stepped aside. She watched with bated breath as Eskel knelt next to Jaskier, ready to step in if the other Witcher tried anything. Jaskier didn’t react to Eskel’s touch, just seemed to sob harder. “What can we do?” Eskel asked immediately.

Yennefer shook her head because she didn’t know. She didn’t know how to make Jaskier better, didn’t know hw to calm him down. Not without Geralt and Geralt had proven how unable he was to accept Jaskier’s pregnancy.

“I’ll take him to his rooms.” Eskel decided when Yennefer didn’t speak. “Go and find Vesemir. He’s probably the only one who can persuade Geralt to listen to Jaskier.” When Yennefer didn’t move, Eskel turned to face her. “Yennefer, you need to let me help. I won’t hurt Jaskier. None of us will, despite what their anger makes you think they won’t hurt Jaskier.”

Yennefer watched as Eskel gently wrapped his arms under Jaskier’s legs and lifted Jaskier into his arms bridal style. Jaskier had stopped crying, his blue eyes staring dimly ahead of him as he remained limp in Eskel’s arms. His arm closest to Eskel’s chest was rubbing at his stomach. 

“Just make sure he’s ok.” Yennefer growled. Eskel nodded before making his way down the corridor to Jaskier’s room.

.........

Geralt ran int the library, pain and sorrow and self hate running through him. He shouldn’t have run. Jaskier needed him. Fuck, Jaskier needed him and he had fucking run. But what was he supposed to do. Apologise and let Jaskier keep that monster inside him. Fuck, Jaskier couldn’t keep it. Geralt couldn’t watch Jaskier die because of that monster.

Vesemir had stood up at Geralt’s approach and now made his way hesitantly towards Geralt, worry on his face. Geralt didn’t let him speak, just looked at his old mentor with blazing amber eyes. “Get rid of the baby.”

“What?” Vesemir asked, voice filled with confusion.

“Get rid of it. Just get rid of that fucking monster now.”. Geralt roared, smashing his hand onto the table.

“Geralt, is this what Jaskier wants?” Vesemir asked, voice careful but Geralt felt anger bristle in him. He growled angrily, glaring at Vesemir.

“I don’t care. That baby is hurting him. Get rid of it.” The sound of the library doors flinging open had Geralt and Vesemir turning to see Yennefer walking in. Chaos surrounded her, violet eyes blaring with anger.

“Don’t you dare touch that baby.” Yennefer growled angrily. 

“It isn’t you child.” Geralt growled. he had known Yennefer for too long and he knew what had driven her for so many years before she found Ciri. Her need for a child. Anger Geralt would be damned if he let her use his mate to get a child for herself. “It’s a monster that needs to die.”

“No.” Yennefer snarled. “It is Jaskier’s child. Half of the child you want to kill is Jaskier.”

“And the other half is a monster.” Geralt yelled. “What if when it’s born it looks like the monster that raped Jaskier? What if it fucking kills Jaskier?” 

“Triss and I won’t let that happen.” Yennefer growled but Geralt shook his head.

‘Chaos can’t solve everything. Jaskier could die because of that baby.” Geralt growled.

“Jaskier doesn’t care.” Yennefer snarled back. “It is his choice and it is his child. Not yours. Not mine. Not that bastard who raped him. It is his child and if he chooses to keep it then that is his choice.”

Geralt collapsed onto the seat behind him at Yennefer’s words, despair running though him. Yennefer was right. This was Jaskier’s choice and it didn’t matter what Geralt thought. “I can’t lose him Yennefer.” Geralt repeated, pain and sorrow in his voice.

“You won’t.” Vesemir spoke, placing a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. “Not if we can help it but this is Jaskier’s choice.”

“I can’t love that baby.” Geralt whispered. He knew if he went to Jaskier then that would be what Jaskier would want. His mate wouldn’t accept Geralt’s apology unless Geralt promised not to hate his child but he couldn’t do that.

“No one is asking you to.” Vesemir spoke, voice soft. “You just need to love Jaskier.”

Geralt turned his face to look at Vesemir and Yennefer. Both stood above him with pain in their eyes. “He’ll never forgive me.” Geralt whispered. 

“Jaskier has a forgiving heart.” Vesemir pointed out and it was true. Jaskier was too forgiving of every sin Geralt had ever committed but Geralt knew deep down that this was different. This was Geralt having a bone deep hatred of the child that Jaskier carried. Of Jaskier’s child.

“He won’t forgive this.” Geralt whispered.

“Geralt, Jaskier needs you.” Vesemir spoke and Geralt just shook his head, looking between the two.

“No, he needs people who will love that child as much as him. People who won’t fucking abandon him.” Geralt could feel the heartbreak and pain through the bond. He had caused that. He had caused Jaskier to be in that much pain. “Fuck, Jaskier deserves so much more than me.”

“He does.” Yennefer confirmed, eyes glaring at Geralt as Geralt turned to look at her. “He deserves someone who won’t hurt him and risk hurting his baby just because they’re angry. But Jaskier has you. Jaskier loves you.”

“Yennefer.” Vesemir tried but Yennefer cut him off with a sharp glare.

“No, he needs to hear the truth of it.” Yennefer angrily retorted. “You caused this mess Geralt. You hurt Jaskier because you hate his baby. Even if you apologise now, even if you promise not to hurt his child Jaskier won’t trust you. Not now he knows how much you hate that baby. And if Jaskier dies...”

“No.” Geralt growled, anger filling him at Yennefer’s words but Yennefer was unrelenting as she continued.

“If Jaskier dies, what happens to his baby, Geralt? You’ll let your anger and pain cloud your judgement, all of you Witchers will.” Yennefer snarled, turning her glare to Vesemir.

“No.” Vesemir replied. “That baby is part of Jaskier and if it is half the man Jaskier is then we will be lucky to have them in our family.” Yennefer snorted at Vesemir’s words.

“You can see something then that even Jaskier’s own mate can’t.” And Geralt felt shame pool low in his stomach. Vesemir had been able to accept Jaskier’s baby without hating it so why couldn’t Geralt. Because it was going to kill Jaskier, the cruel part of his mind unhelpfully added. “If you don’t accept Jaskier’s baby, if you can’t promise to love his baby then you have no business coming near Jaskier.” Yennefer growled. “None of you do, unless you can do that one thing because that is what Jaskier needs. He needs you to promise to love his child.” 

Geralt could only watch as Yennefer turned on her heel and walked away from him. She was right. The one thing Jaskier needed above all else, the assuredness that Geralt would love the tiny child growing inside Jaskier’s stomach. And it was the one thing Geralt didn’t think he had the strength to do.


	8. Chapter 8

Geralt swung his blade with as much free as he cold muster, knocking Coen to the ground for what was probably the 10th time that morning. Coen didn’t say a word, just grunted and got back to his feet, falling back into a fighting stance. Geralt grunted. It was 2 weeks after he had found Jaskier sobbing uncontrollably in the corridors. 2 weeks days since Geralt had admitted that he didn’t think he could love that baby. 2 weeks since Geralt had lost all hope of ever earning Jaskier’s forgiveness.

Coen parried Geralt’s block, the force of the blow sending vibration up both there arms. Geralt didn’t care, just continued attacking. Coen was a good fighter, any other day he would have been able to get past Geralt’s rapidly disappearing guard. Vesemir would have a fit if he saw the way Geralt allowed his anger and pain drive his technique. But Vesemir wasn’t here, so there was no one to berate him as Coen allowed Geralt to age his anger out on the Griffin Witcher.

10 minutes later, Geralt had Coen on the ground once more. Coen waved his hands up in defeat, “I’m done. Sorry Geralt, you’ll have to find another partner.” Geralt grunted, holding out a hand, which Coen took. Geralt hauled the Witcher to his feet and Coen nodded his thanks. Geralt expected Coen to leave but instead he hesitated momentarily, looking at Geralt with concern in his amber eyes. “You ok, Geralt?”

Geralt didn’t respond, just growled. Coen ducked his head in acknowledgement before leaving Geralt to his anger. That was what Geralt had always liked about the Griffin Witcher, Coen knew when to leave Geralt to himself. Unlike his own brothers, Geralt thought as he watched Lambert stalking over to him.

Geralt hadn’t seen Lambert since the day he had found out Jaskier was pregnant. In all honest,y Geralt had been avoiding most of the Witchers since then. He’d taken to stealing food from the kitchens and locking himself away in one of the guest bedrooms, only offering grunts in answer to any of the Witchers questions. Eskel had tried to confront Geralt a few days ago, the day after Geralt had found Jaskier sobbing in the corridor. 

Eskel had been furious. Angrier than Geralt had ever seen his usually calm and put together brother. Eskel hadn’t even bothered with words, just punched Geralt across the face in greeting and called him “A fucking idiot.” Any other time Geralt would have joked that this was more Lambert’s way of greeting but at that time he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but the bone deep sorrow of loosing Jaskier.

Geralt had just stood as Eskel berated him, feeling his heart sink lower and lower in his chest as Eskel spoke. “Jaskier doesn’t deserve you hating him. He needs you there for him and what do you do you run scared. You should be there with him, not here feeling sorry for yourself.” And Geralt knew Eskel was right. Geralt should be with Jaskier, he should be comforting and offering Jaskier every bit of love and comfort his omega needed. Except Yennefer was also right. Unless Geralt could accept, could love Jaskier’s baby then Geralt had no business being anywhere near Jaskier.

“I can’t love that baby.” Geralt had grunted at Eskel who had growled in anger in response.

“Why? That baby is part of Jaskier. You love Jaskier so why can’t you love his child.” And Geralt had just lowered his eyes because Eskel, like Vesemir, could see past the knowledge that the baby could kill Jaskier, that the baby’s alpha parent was a bastard who had raped Jaskier. So why couldn’t Geralt. “Get your head out of your arse and fix this.” Eskel had snarled, glaring at Geralt once more before stalking away.

And Geralt had been trying. He had spent the last 2 weeks avoiding every person in the keep, mind running over everything, trying to make himself love that child. But it was hard. It was hard because what if Jaskier died? The thought of loosing the bright vibrant loving man that Jaskier was was like a dagger through the heart. 

And now Lambert was coming over here, probably for the same reason Eskel came to him. Geralt knew he had fucked up. He knew that he had hurt Jaskier and that his actions were continuing to hurt Jaskier. He didn’t need Lambert to fucking remind him of it.

“Fuck off.” Geralt growled as Lambert came to stand in front of him.

“Fuck you.” Lambert retorted, glaring at Geralt. “And where the fuck have you been, we’ve needed to talk to you.”

Geralt hadn’t realised before now but as Lambert finished speaking he realised the training grounds had suddenly become silent. The clang of steel against steel was gone and instead every Witcher in the grounds was staring at Geralt. Every one of the 30 Witchers in the grounds were staring at Geralt and Geralt had no doubt when they were through here they would relate the contents of this conversation to the other 200 odd Witchers who had decided to winter at are Morhen.

Geralt growled in anger. He knew what was going to happen. Every single Witcher loved Jaskier, saw Jaskier as their bard and would protect him to their dying breath. And every single Witcher knew that Geralt had abandoned him. Every single Witcher would now be seeing Geralt as the enemy. And Geralt expected no less, he expected them all to hate him almost as much as he hated himself for the way he had treated Jaskier. But he didn’t need to fucking hear it anymore. not when those thoughts tormented him every single fucking second of every single fucking day.

“It’s about Jaskier.” Lambert started. Geralt just growled, turning away from lambert to stalk away but Letho and Aukes suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Move.” Geralt growled, low and angry but neither moved.

“Fuck, Geralt we’re trying to help.” Lambert growled, anger and exasperation in his tone.

“You can’t fucking help.” Geralt growled. The only person who could help Geralt was the only person who Geralt had pushed away so completely and utterly.

“We’ve been researching potions to get rid of the baby. We need you to make Jaskier take it.” Lambert growled. Geralt turned around to look at Lambert in disbelief.

“What?” Geralt asked, disbelief in his voice and Lambert growled angrily.

“We have a way to kill that monster.” Aidan growled, spark of anger in his amber eyes. 

“We can save Jaskier Geralt but he won’t take it if it’s us.” lambert continued, coming to place a hand on Geralt’s should. “He won’t trust us.” And Geralt could only look around in disbelief at the 30 pairs of anger filled amber eyes. They wanted to get rid of Jaskier’s baby. They had a way to get rid of Jaskier’s baby.

And for the first time since finding out Jaskier was pregnant, Geralt finally understood the fear and pain in Jaskier’s voice when Geralt had said he wanted the baby gone.

“No.” Geralt growled, surprising even himself at the word.

“Geralt, it’s not a baby growing inside Jaskier, it’s a fucking monster. We kill fucking monsters.” lambert growled, disbelief in his voice as he stared at Geralt incredulously.

“I said no.” Geralt growled, a warning in his tone. 

“I thought you wanted it gone.” Lambert growled. “It’s killing Jaksier, it’s fucking killing him and it needs to die.” But Geralt just shook his head.

He’d spent 2 weeks working thinking about nothing but Jaskier and his unborn baby. Thinking about everything Eskel, Yennefer, Vesemir, Ciri, Triss had said and done in Jaskier and his baby’s defence. Fuck everything Jaskier had said and done. Until now Geralt couldn’t understand why any of them had wanted the baby to live. He hadn’t understood the fierce protectiveness in Yennefer’s voice. He hadn’t understood the pain and fear in Jaskier’s voice. Not until now. Not until Lambert had given Geralt exactly what he’d been asking for for the last 3 weeks. Not until the way to kill Jaskier’s unborn baby was handed to him but an equally angry Lambert.

And finally Geralt understood that it didn’t matter what he thought because this was Jaskier’s baby. If Jaskier lost this baby, it would destroy his mate. It would probably kill him and fuck that was precisely what Geralt didn’t, couldn’t lose. His Jaskier. His Jaskier who was pregnant with a child. Jaskier’s baby. Fuck, Geralt had been so stupid, so fucking cruel. This was Jaskier’s baby. It wasn’t a monster, it was a part of Jaskier. A part of Jaskier who was as far removed from a monster as anyone could be.

“Fuck, I was wrong.” Geralt breathed. “The baby’s not a monster.” Geralt turned around to look at the Witchers gathered around him, anger and shock in their eyes. “It’s not a monster.”

“Fuck yes it is.” Lambert growled but Geralt snarled at him.

“No, it’s Jaskier’s baby. Jaskier’s baby.” Geralt stared at the Witchers, willing them to understand something that Geralt had finally realised himself. “It’s a part of Jaskier.”

“Part of our bard?” Coen’s voice asked, hesitancy and confusion in his voice.

“Part of Jaskier.” Geralt confirmed and he watched as the anger bled from every Witcher around him.

“Fuck.” Lambert breathed, looking at Geralt with sorrow and pain in his eyes. “Fuck, I was going to hurt Jaskier’s fucking kid. Fuck.”

But Geralt wasn’t listening, his mind was reeling with this new information. He had to find Jaskier. He had to find Jaskier and he had to apologise. Now.

........

Jaskier hadn’t moved for 2 weeks. He hadn’t done anything for the last 2 weeks that didn’t directly involve keeping the baby alive. He ate was Triss and Yennefer gave him. He cleaned himself in the bath they had brought up specially for him so he didn’t have to leave his rooms. But he didn’t, couldn’t do anything else.

The despair had wrapped itself so throughly around Jaskier that if not for the baby he would have curled into a ball in his bed and refused all offer of comfort, of food, of water. Of anything. He knew he was scaring Ciri. Fuck, Ciri left nearly every visit with tears glistening in her emerald eyes but Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to stop. 

He couldn’t make himself smile. He couldn’t make himself pretend like he had been doing before Geralt had abandoned him completely and utterly. He couldn’t even play his fucking lute. He just couldn’t do this anymore. Jaskier curled into a ball under the thick covers Vesemir and Eskel had brought up when they had seen Jaskier shivering from the cold during their last visit. When was that, 2 days ago? 3? Jaskier had lost all track of time since Geralt had left him there. Jaskier fought back the sobs threatening to engulf him at the thought of his alpha, or rather just Geralt now. Geralt had left him so that meant Geralt wasn’t really Jaskier’s alpha anymore. The sound bond throbbed at the thought and jaskier bit back the sob.

This wasn’t good for the baby. His hands came to rub against the bulge of his stomach, gently stroking where the tiny baby lay. He had grown a lot in the last month and Triss had had to let out his small clothes and chemise to accommodate the sudden growth. Jaskier closed his eyes, trying to picture the tiny baby that would be in his arms in the next 4 months. But all he saw was darkness and the sound of a crying baby. 

Jaskier bit down on his wrist to stifle the sob. His baby would grow up alone. Alone and unloved and uncared for because Jaskier knew he wouldn’t survive this pregnancy. Not when every part of him ached in pain and despair at what he had lost. The cruel hateful part of Jaskier’s mind wanted to blame the baby for this. His child had caused this rift, caused Jaskier to lose his family, his mate. But he couldn’t, because this was his child and no matter what Jaskier loved them. He loved his baby.

It was the only thing he really knew for certain any more. And he clung onto that knowledge like a mantra as he lay stroking where his tiny baby was growing.

.......

Geralt nearly charged into Triss on his way to Jaskier’s rooms. The brunette’s face was strained, pain in her eyes as she looked in surprise at Geralt. Geralt didn’t give her chance to speak before demanding, “I need to see him. I need to speak to Jaskier.”

“Geralt, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Triss’ voice was strained and as Geralt looked more closely at her he could see the tiredness in her eyes. 

“Please Triss, I need to apologise.” Geralt pleaded. This couldn’t wait. He needed to make Jaskier see how sorry he was. He needed to show Jaskier how much he loved his mate, how much he loved Jaskier’s unborn baby.

“Geralt, Jaskier...he’s not well at the moment.” Triss’ voice was hesitant and Geralt felt his heart thunder in worry.

“Is he ok? Fuck, the baby, is it ok?” Now Triss looked at Geralt with surprise and confusion. “Fuck, Triss I’ve made a mess of this. I need to see him. Please, I need to apologise.”

“You...you’re worried about the baby?” Triss asked, disbelief colouring her tone.

“Yes, now please. Just tell me he’s ok.” Geralt begged. He needed to know. He needed to know Jaskier was ok. Geralt reached through the sound bond and drew back almost instantly at the force of pain and despair radiating from Jaskier. Geralt staggered over to the wall, leaning against it as he tentatively pushed against the soul bond. He’d been ignoring it for the last 2 weeks, unable to face the feeling of Jaskier so close to him when in reality Jaskier couldn’t be further from him. But now he wished he hadn’t, now he wished he’d paid more attention.

“Fuck, Triss. Please tell me what’s wrong?” Geralt begged. Now he had acknowledged Jaskier’s pain he couldn’t hide from it. Jaskier’s heart was keening, broken into a million pieces and it was all Geralt’s fault. Geralt had done this.

Triss hesitantly came to stand next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing softly. “He’s hurting.” Triss said softly. “He hasn’t spoken for 2 weeks except to ask for food. Geralt...Jaskier can’t go on like this.”

“What can I do?” Geralt asked immediately, needing to know how to help his poor suffering mate.

“Geralt...” Triss hesitated, stepping back from Geralt with pain in her eyes. “You...you caused this.” And Geralt knew that he fucking knew that but hearing the words said out loud made Geralt‘s heart break.

“I need to fix it.” Geralt breathed.

“It’s not that simple.” Triss spoke.

“I need to fucking try Triss.” Geralt’s voice broke on the words and he saw the acceptance in Triss’ face as she slowly nodded.

“Yennefer won’t like this.” Triss spoke quietly but Geralt wasn’t listening, all he was focused on was the pain filtering through the soul bond. Geralt sent as much love and comfort as he could muster through the soul bond, hoping against hope that Jaskier felt it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, I know this chapter is shorter than usual but I wanted the next part to be a chapter all on it’s own.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed and thanks for reading :)


	9. Chapter 9

“Where’s Yennefer?” Triss asked as she slowly opened the door to Jaskier’s room. Geralt had stopped thinking of it as his and Jaskier’s room the minute he had broken Jaskier’s heart. Triss had left Geralt waiting anxiously outside of the room, keeping the door half closed as she talked to Vesemir.

Vesemir looked at Geralt with relief in his face as he gently pushed the door further open so he could leave the room. As the door opened briefly before closing again behind Vesemir, Geralt could just make out the shape of Jaskier under a pile of soft blankets. The stink of sadness and pain was clear in the room, masking the honeysuckle and camomile under its layers.

“I need to talk to him.” Geralt said as soon as Vesemir closed the door, pleading eyes for the old Witcher to understand. “I need to apologise. I fucked up. I hurt him.”

Vesemir nodded his head, relief clear in his eyes as he looked at Geralt. “Then talk to him Geralt but…” Here Vesemir hesitated, eyes taking on a fierce protective glare. “Don’t hurt him anymore than you already have. Jaskier can’t handle any more pain.”

And Geralt ducked his head in shame. It should be him showing the overprotectiveness towards his mate, not Vesemir. Vesemir shouldn’t have to warn Geralt not to hurt Jaskier. But then, Geralt should never have hurt Jaskier to begin with.

“Yennefer won’t like this.” Triss repeated, eyes moving down the corridor as if afraid the violet eyed mage would walk down it at any moment.

“No she won’t.” Vesemir agreed. “But Jaskier can’t stay like this any longer.” Vesemir turned to face Geralt again, a warning glare in his eyes. “I’m serious Geralt, don’t hurt our omega anymore.”

“I won’t.” Geralt promised and only then did Vesemir nod and step aside, pushing the door open to allow Geralt to enter.

Geralt listened to the door close softly behind him before turning to face Jaskier fully. Jaskier was buried under the blankets and furs, body curled into a tight ball and Geralt could make out the soft sniffles under the mound of blankets. Jaskier was crying. The scent of tears were clear in the air, as well as the scent of pain and sadness. But underneath it all, Geralt could pick out the individual scent of honeysuckle and camomile. Of Jaskier. And further under all that another scent. The scent of pureness and the underlying scent of milk. The scent of Jaskier’s baby. 

Fuck. Geralt made his way to an armchair positioned at Jaskier’s side and collapsed into the seat. Jaskier hadn’t moved from his curled position, the only part of him visible under the blankets being a tuft of brown hair. But Geralt saw his posture underneath the blankets stiffen. Fuck, he really had made a mess of this hadn’t he.

Geralt didn’t know how to even begin apologising to Jaskier. He had never been good with words, had always left Jaskier to that. Jaskier who was a wordsmith, who could articulate everything he felt so easily, who always seemed to know what Geralt meant by his grunts. Geralt wasn’t Jaskier, he didn’t know how to voice his thoughts without hurting Jaskier more. But he had to try. He had to try and make this right. Not for his sake, but for Jaskier. And if Jaskier chose to make him leave, chose to never have anything to do with Geralt again then that was his right. And as much as it would hurt Geralt, he would understand and respect Jaskier’s wishes. Just like he should have done with the baby.

“Jaskier? Geralt growled, trying to keep his voice kind and calm but instead it came out as a growl. Jaskier curled tighter in on himself under the blankets, a muffled sob making its way to Geralt’s ears. “Fuck, Jaskier. I…I want to talk. Please.”

Geralt didn’t expect Jaskier to listen, fully expected Jaskier to tell him to leave. But instead Jaskier shifted under the covers. His head appeared and Jaskier pushed aside the blankets, moving to sit in the bed. Jaskier’s hands were gently cupping the bulge on his stomach. It was more prominent than it had been before and Geralt found his eyes drawn to the roundness of Jaskier’s belly, imagining the tiny child growing inside it. Fuck, how had he ever wanted to hurt Jaskier’s baby.

“Then talk.” Jaskier’s voice was hoarse, filled with sadness. Geralt lifted his head to meet Jaskier’s face and felt then his heart stab in pain once more. Jaskier’s usually vibrant bright cornflower blue eyes had turned grey and dim. Tears glistened in them and there were tear tracks down Jaskier’s face. Jaskier’s eyes were ringed with blankness and the smile that was nearly always present on Jaskier’s face was gone, replaced with an ugly grimace.

“Fuck, Jask.” Geralt breathed, hands reaching out to touch Jaskier subconsciously. Jaskier flinched back, shaking his head as tears fell from his eyes. “Fuck, I’m sorry Jaskier. I’m so fucking sorry.” Geralt said, voice breaking at the state of his omega. Jaskier had gained some of the weight he had lost in his first few months of the pregnancy but he was still unhealthily thin. Thin and so pale. His hands trembled over the bump of his stomach.

Jaskier choked on a sob at Geralt’s words, knees coming up to his chest and head falling onto them. Geralt watched with heart breaking clarity as Jaskier wrapped his arms around his knees and softly rocked back and forth. Everything in Geralt was shouting at him to wrap his omega in his arms but he didn’t dare. Not when Jaskier so obviously didn’t want his touch.

“Jaskier.” Geralt waited until Jaskier’s storm grey dulled eyes turned to meet his amber ones. Trying not to flinch under the pure pain and sadness in those once bright and vibrant blue eyes Geralt forced the next words out. “I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong about your baby Jaskier. And I’ll never be able to apologise enough. I don’t expect you to forgive me but…fuck Jaskier I’m sorry.”

“I…I don’t understand?” The confusion in Jaskier’s voice broke Geralt’s heart all over again.

“The baby Jaskier.” Geralt said, “I was wrong. It’s not a monster. It’s your baby. Your child and I should never have said what I did.” Jaskier sobbed again, his shoulders wracking from the powerfulness of that sob. 

The need to wrap his omega in his arms, offer any tiny bit of comfort he could overtook Geralt and before he had thought his actions through he was on the bed and pulling Jaskier into his arms. Jaskier sobbed into his arms, hands burying into Geralt’s shirt as Geralt kissed his hair softly. “Fuck Jaskier. I’m so fucking sorry.” Geralt repeated, holding Jaskier tighter in his arms.

…….

Jaskier couldn’t speak. He could barely understand why Geralt was saying these things. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Geralt wasn’t here and he wasn’t holding Jaskier close, offering the warmth and comfort Jaskier had craved since finding out about the baby. No, this was a cruel horrible dream his mind was playing him. He would wake up soon and he would be alone once more.

“I’m sorry Jaskier.” Geralt repeated, kissing his hair. He kept saying that and those words just kept making Jaskier sob harder and harder. He didn’t understand. Why was Geralt apologising? Why was Geralt here? Geralt hated his baby. Geralt wanted to kill his baby. Jaskier’s hands released his hold on Geralt, moving to wrap around his bump, around his baby growing in his belly.

“Jaskier, breath. Fuck, Jask, you need to breath.” Geralt growled, panic in his voice as Jaskier felt his breath stutter. He knew Geralt was right but he couldn’t force the breaths to come out as anything but short shallow gasps. “Jaskier, sweetheart. It’s ok, just…fuck…follow my breaths.” Jaskier clung to those words, letting Geralt rest his head on the alpha’s warm chest. Geralt exaggerated his breaths, his chest moving underneath Jaskier’s ear. And Jaskier forced himself to concentrate on those breaths. Forced himself to copy those breaths so he didn’t hurt the baby by panicking. Fuck, he couldn’t hurt the baby.

“Hey, Jask, just breath. You’re ok. You’re both ok.” Geralt whispered into Jaskier’s hair as if he had heard Jaskier’s thoughts. Jaskier forced himself to follow Geralt’s breathing once more and slowly, ever so slowly he felt his breathing even. He expected Geralt to release him but Geralt just tightened his hold on Jaskier.

“It’s just a dream.” Jaskier whispered to himself. 

“No, Jaskier. It’s not.” Geralt growled, hand circling Jaskier’s back. 

“You hate my baby. You hate me. You don’t love me anymore.” Jaskier sobbed. He knew he couldn’t break down like this, knew the stress of all these emotions could hurt the baby but he couldn’t help it. It all just hurt to much.

“Fuck, Jask. I don’t hate you. I love you.” Geralt growled, voice filled with pain. “And I don’t hate your baby. It’s your baby Jaskier, I can’t hate it.” Jaskier just sobbed again. It was too cruel. His mind was playing tricks, telling him everything he knew wasn’t real. “Jaskier, fell through the soul bond. You know this is real. You know I’m not lying.”

So Jaskier did. He let himself feel Geralt’s emotions like he hadn’t since Geralt had said his baby was a monster. He braced himself for the anger and hatred that would come rolling in, braced himself for the pain he expected to feel as a direct consequence of feeling that hatred from Geralt. Except he didn’t get that. All he felt was love and comfort and worry pouring from Geralt. Love and comfort and worry for him, for Jaskier.

“I…” Jaskier started but trailed off, unable to voice what he was feeling. Confusion, anger, pain, disbelief. Love. Fuck, if this wasn’t real, if he was just making this up.

“I’m so sorry Jask, I’m so fucking sorry.” And was Geralt crying. Geralt didn’t cry, he never cried. Jaskier lifted his head to look at Geralt, to look at him properly. And what he found made his heartbreak for his alpha. Geralt’s eyes were ablaze with pain. There were tears in his eyes.

“Geralt?” Jaskier whispered, lifting a shaking hand to trail a line on Geralt’s face. “You don’t hate me?” Jaskier whispered, voice hesitant and Geralt tightened his hold around Jaskier’s waist, eyes filling with pain at Jaskier’s words.

“No Jaskier, I could never fucking hate you.” Geralt whispered.

“And…and my baby?” Jaskier whispered, needing to know. He needed to know Geralt didn’t hate Jaskier’s baby.

“No, Jask. I was wrong, I was so fucking wrong.” Geralt growled, tears dropping down his face. “I was so fucking scared I’d lose you and I didn’t think about you, I just kept thinking of you dying, of you hurting and I…fuck.” Geralt growled, pressing a fierce kiss to Jaskier’s head. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I called your baby a monster. It’s not a monster it could never be a monster. It’s part of you.” 

And all Jaskier could do was wrap his arms around Geralt in complete and utter disbelief. Geralt didn’t hate his baby. Geralt didn’t hate his baby. Jaskier shook in Geralt’s hold, tears running down his cheeks as all the emotions from the last few weeks overtook him. “I don’t know if I can do this.” Jaskier whispered, voicing the thoughts that had plagued him since finding out he was pregnant.

“Of course you can.” Geralt growled fiercely. “You’re the kindest, strongest person I know. You’re the only person who could do this.”

Jaskier shook his head, burying his face into Geralt’s chest further. “I’m fucking terrified Geralt.” Jaskier whispered. “I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby.” Geralt grunted above him, rubbing a circle around Jaskier’s back. “They all hate my baby.” Jaskier whispered, remembering his recurring nightmare of blackness and the sound of his baby crying. All alone in the world. “My baby’s going to grow up alone. Fuck, Geralt, my baby’s going to be so fucking alone.” Jaskier sobbed.

“No they’re not.” Geralt growled angrily. “That baby will have you. You won’t let them be alone.” And Jaskier sobbed again, burying his head into Geralt’s chest.

“No, Geralt. What if…fuck…what if they don’t. What if I…what if I die Geralt? My baby won’t have anyone.” Jaskier sobbed.

“You won’t die.” Geralt growled fiercely, voice filled with pain.

“What if I do?” Jaskier whispered. He had to know. He had to know if he wasn’t there that his baby would be ok. That they wouldn’t be alone.

Geralt was silent, body tense and Jaskier was terrified that Geralt would leave again, would take back everything he had said. But instead Geralt kissed his head softly and began to speak. “Then “Your baby will be the most loved child in the whole continent." Jaskier turned his head up to look at Geralt, to see the fierceness in his alpha’s gaze as he spoke. “Yennefer already adores that baby. She would do anything for it. And Eskel and Vesemir would do anything for them. Ciri, she’ll be the perfect big sister.” Geralt said, voice filled with such sincerity as he spoke. His eyes filled with fierceness. “Triss will be there every time your baby needs someone. And the Witchers, they will protect your baby as fiercely as they do Ciri. Love them as fiercely as they love you.”

“And you?” Jaskier whispered, needed to hear Geralt say it. Needed to know Geralt would love his child, would care for Jaskier’s baby.

Geralt gazed down at Jaskier showing every bit of love in his eyes as he could. “That baby is part of Jaskier. I couldn’t not love it if I tried.”

And Jaskier found himself sobbing all over again, except this time Jaskier realised as Geralt help him tight and protected in his arms, these tears weren’t tears of pain or sadness or sorrow. No, they were tears of joy. And for the first time since finding out he was pregnant, Jaskier felt all the pain and sorrow disappear. His baby would be loved. His baby wouldn’t be alone. That was all Jaskier needed to know.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of past rape in this chapter so if not comfortable please don't read.

Geralt sat watching Jaskier’s slow even breathing in sleep. His omega was pressed close to his side, head rested on Geralt’s chest in sleep. Geralt stroked a hand absentmindedly through Jaskier’s hair, feeling lightness in his heart that he hadn’t felt in months. He had Jaskier back. Except, did he really?

Geralt had never seen Jaskier so heartbroken as he had mere hours ago as his mate sobbed, believing Geralt hated his baby. Hated him. Fuck. Geralt loved Jaskier. Jaskier was the best thing that had ever happened to him and the thought that because of his actions he had made Jaskier think he didn’t love him. Fuck. It was like a stabbing pain in his heart that grew bigger every time he thought of how badly he had failed his mate.

In sleep Jaskier looked almost peaceful. His eyes closed, a soft smile on his face as he curled into Geralt’s warmth. One hand curled lightly on Geralt’s chest, the other wrapped protectively around his belly. His baby. Fuck. Geralt looked down at Jaskier’s swollen belly, marvelling at the knowledge that there was a life growing inside his mate.

Until now Geralt hadn’t been able to process that fact properly, only ever seeing a twisted monster seeping the life out of his beloved Jaskier. Except now, as he finally realised that this baby was Jaskier’s baby, not a monster but a part of his mate, Geralt couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Imagining Jaskier lying in this bed, with a baby cradled in his arms made Geralt’s heart burst with joy. Jaskier deserved that. He deserved to have a tiny baby who he could call all his own. And Jaskier would be an amazing Father. His little baby would want for nothing, Jaskier would dote on his child completely and utterly.

But past those thoughts, Geralt couldn’t help the nagging fear in his heart. Jaskier gone, a baby crying in their crib for their Father who wasn’t there. Looking at Jaskier now, Geralt couldn’t imagine the rest of the pregnancy would be easy for him. Jaskier looked so…so…so fucking fragile. He had lost weight, that was evident. His skin was pale with a sickly greyish colour to it. Jaskier wasn’t well. And Geralt couldn’t help but blame himself. Jaskier was suffering, had been suffering because Geralt hadn’t been there for him. Had refused to give Jaskier the support he so desperately needed. And all this time, Jaskier had been plagued with thoughts of what happened if he was gone. Jaskier had believed his baby would be abandoned, all alone in the world if he died and Geralt felt his heart ache because if someone had asked him what would happen to the baby if Jaskier was gone only yesterday Geralt wouldn’t have cared. But now…

Now…now Geralt didn’t know what he wanted. The thought of losing Jaskier still filled with unbelievable pain and the fact that it was still a possibility, was probably even more likely considering how weak Jaskier currently was…no Geralt couldn’t lose Jaskier. He wouldn’t let himself lose his mate. But if he did? What then? He couldn’t replace Jaskier as the baby’s Father. No one could. They would care for the baby, protect them. Geralt knew that even if he himself wasn’t here that Yennefer would do anything in her power to love Jaskier’s baby. Except none of them would be Jaskier.

Geralt closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet scent of camomile and honeysuckle, feeling the calmness flowing through the bond from Jaskier. His hand came to hover over Jaskier’s belly but he stopped himself. He didn’t deserve to touch Jaskier’s belly, not when he had spent so long hating that child that grew inside his mate.

Geralt sighed, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. He didn’t deserve Jaskier. None of them did. They had all been so wrapped up in their hatred of this child that they had failed to see how much pain Jaskier was in, Geralt had failed to see. 

The sound of the door slamming open had Geralt tensing. His arms wrapped tightly around his sleeping mate, ready to shield Jaskier and his baby from any danger that came through the door. Instead of danger though, Yennefer walked in. Her violet eyes were ablaze with anger and chaos surrounded her in a cloud. Geralt felt himself tense, having been on the receiving end of that anger filled gaze more than once before.

“Outside.” Yennefer growled, eyes darting to Jaskier for a second before settling on Geralt. Geralt grunted, knowing he would have to face Yenenfer as some point and not wanting to disturb his sleeping mate.

Jaskier stirred as Geralt slowly climbed off the bed, whimpering and curling into the spot Geralt had just vacated. “I’ll be right back.” Geralt grunted softly, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s hair. That seemed to settle Jaskier as the tenseness disappeared and the peaceful expression flowed back across his face. Geralt hummed, pulling the blanket back around Jaskier. With one final look at his sleeping mate, Geralt followed Yenenfer out of the room.

As soon as the door was shut Yenenfer rounded on Geralt. “What do you think you’re doing in there?” She growled, chaos buzzing in the air and sending Geralt’s medallion to vibrating angrily against his chest.

Geralt forced his own anger down, knowing Yennefer had every right to be angry after what Geralt had done. “I was wrong.”

“You were wrong.” Yennefer snorted, incredulous look in her eyes. “Of course you were wrong Geralt, you’d have to be blind not to see that. But that’s not what I asked, what are you doing in there?”

“I needed to see him.” Geralt growled, bristling at Yennefer’s insinuation that he shouldn’t be allowed near his mate at the same time as guilt welled up because Geralt knew he didn’t deserve to be near Jaskier after what he had done.

“You needed to see him.” Yenenfer snorted, the chaos in the air becoming stifling. “What about Jaskier, Geralt? Did you think about what he needed?”

“He needed me Yenn.” Geralt growled because he knew that was true. Jaskier had needed to know that Geralt didn’t hate him, that he was loved. That his baby was loved.

“Needed you. He needed you weeks ago when you called his baby a monster. He needed you when you,” Yennefer followed the word up with a sharp point of her finger to Geralt’s chest, “abandoned him. How dare you come here now, trying to make it all better. You can’t, Geralt.”

“I know.” Geralt growled. “Of course I fucking know Yennefer. I fucked it all up. I hurt Jaskier. I made him think no one would love his baby, that his baby would grow up alone.”

That seemed to stop Yennefer’s tirade of anger as hurt flashed across her face, “What?” The word was breathed silently, pain obvious and Geralt felt all the fight vanish as he slumped against the wall.

“He thought that if he died his baby wouldn’t have anyone. He thought we all hated his baby.” And Yennefer, who had only seconds ago vibrated with pure unadulterated anger now looked crushed. There were tears in her eyes as she stared at Geralt.

“But that’s not true. I wouldn’t let anything hurt that baby Geralt, I love them.” And Geralt nodded his head.

“I know Yenn, and Jaskier does to…?” Geralt tried and a small tear ran down Yennefer’s face.

“No…he doesn’t.” Yenenfer whispered, slumping on the opposite wall of Geralt. “I…we were so worried about Jaskier’s health, the baby’s health…I didn’t even think about what Jaskier was thinking…I…”

“None of us did.” Geralt sighed, wrapping Yennefer in a hug. Yennefer slumped against him and Geralt was taken back to another time, another place when Yennefer had told him that she dreamed of becoming important to someone. It was the first time Geralt had ever seen Yennefer’s vulnerability and now he saw it again.

“We were all to wrapped up in what we thought.” Geralt continued as Yennefer stood silent in his arms. “We all just wanted to protect Jaskier, to keep him safe and none of us thought about what Jaskier wanted.”

Yennefer looked at him, violet eyes filled with tears. “I was jealous.” Her voice was quiet with the admittance. “I know I have Ciri and I love our lion cub more than anything but…”

“You still wanted your own child. You still want to be important to someone.” Geralt finished and Yennefer only nodded in return.

They stood like that for a long while. Geralt offering Yennefer comfort as the sorceress silently cried. And then she was stepping back, brushing away the stray tears and mask back in place. Geralt hummed. He and Yennefer had had something a long long time ago. Loved each other in the passion hate-fuelled kind of way. And while their relationship had changed dramatically long the way, Geralt was still glad that Yennefer could allow her mask to slip with him. If only for a moment.

“How is he? And the baby?” Geralt grunted.

Yennefer glanced at the door before sighing, shaking her head. “He’s not well Geralt. He’s barely functioning past the bare minimum. If not for the baby I think Jaskier would have given up by now.” Geralt felt his heart clench in pain at Yennefer’s words. He had known from their short conversation last night that it was bad but hearing Yennefer say it was so much worse.

“Will he survive?” Geralt asked, needing to know.

“I don’t know.” Yennefer admitted, compassion in her eyes as she took Geralt’s hand in hers and squeezed it softly. Geralt glared at the floor, feeling like he could collapse at any moment at thought of loosing Jaskier. “He’s weak, very weak. If he keeps going like this he won’t make it.”

“What can I do?” Geralt growled. He needed to do something. Anything, to make sure Jaskier lived through this.

“Be there for him. You were right, Jaskier needs you. Get him to eat, move out of that bed.” Geralt grunted.

“And the baby?” If Yennefer was surprised by the question she didn’t show it.

“I don’t know.” And Geralt looked at her sharply. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Geralt growled. Until this point he had been certain that Jaskier’s baby would be fine. Had blamed the baby for Jaskier’s deterioration but to hear the baby might not be ok.

“The stress isn’t good for the baby.” Yennefer said, voice sharp as she glared at Geralt before her face and voice softened once more. “Jaskier could loose his child if this continues.” And once more Geralt felt guilt stab through his heart. Jaskier could lose his baby because of what Geralt had done.

“Does Jaskier know?” Geralt asked and Yennefer slowly shook her head.

“He knows the stress isn’t good for the baby but…I don’t think he’s thought about the possibility of loosing the baby.” Yennefer sighed and Geralt hummed. “Geralt, if he does…Jaskier won’t handle that well.”

And Geralt knew that. Jaskier loved that child too much to lose them now. If he lost his baby then…fuck Jaskier would be devastated. Geralt was about to speak further when he felt distress floating through the bond. Geralt froze, ears pinpointing the silent whimpered sobs coming from Jaskier’s rooms. The smell of Jaskier’s fear and distress floated through the air and Geralt felt his heart clench painfully.

………….

Jaskier woke slowly, a small smile on his face as he rubbed his belly softly. The warm spicy scent of his mate filled Jaskier’s senses and clam washed over Jaskier as he curled further into the blankets. Geralt had been here last night. Geralt had said he still loved Jaskier, said he loved Jaskier’s baby. Jaskier smiled, turning in the bed so he could wrap his arms around his mate and forget all the hardship of the last few months in his mates warm embrace.

Except as Jaskier turned in the bed, expecting to find the solid bulk of Geralt next to him, Jaskier’s hands found only empty mattress. Jaskier sat bolt upright, eyes scanning the room wildly in search of his mate. Except he wasn’t there.

Jaskier felt his heart clench painfully as he rubbed his pregnant belly. He smelt Geralt’s scent in the room, remembered falling asleep wrapped in Geralt’s warm arms. He remembered their conversation last night. He remembered Geralt saying he loved Jaskier’s baby. That he loved Jaskier’s baby. Except Geralt wasn’t here.

Tears welled up in Jaskier’s eyes as he fell back on the bed, curling tightly in a ball as he wrapped his arms around his belly. Geralt had said he loved Jaskier, loved Jaskier’s baby. It wasn’t a dream. The scent of his mate, the spicy scent of Geralt and the underlying scent of horse and onion was pressed into the pillow he had obviously been sleeping on. Jaskier burying his face into the pillow, sobbing harder as he realised Geralt had been here. He had been here and now he was gone. He had lied. Geralt didn’t love him, didn’t love his baby. Geralt wasn’t here.

Jaskier sobbed, breathing coming out in panicked pained gasps as he felt like his heart had been torn from his body. His hands wrapped around his belly, a distant part of his mind telling him to calm down for the baby’s sake but he couldn’t. He couldn’t take this. Couldn’t loose Geralt again. Not again. Fuck, no not again.

Sharp pain made itself known in Jaskier’s belly and Jaskier sobbed, curling harder into himself. No, no he couldn’t lose his baby to. Not when he’s just lost Geralt. Jaskier tried to calm himself down, tried to take deep even breaths but all that came out was gasping painful sobs. Jaskier curled tighter around his belly, trying to protect it even though it was him that was causing his baby pain. Jaskier sobbed, pain running down his chest as he hyperventilated.

Black spots appeared at the edges of his vision as Jaskier sobbed, gasping for breath. He couldn’t breath. Fuck, it hurt too much. Jaskier couldn’t control the sobbing as he gasped his next breath of air into his lungs. It sent a sharp shooting pain down his chest and Jaskier sobbed. His baby, he was hurting his baby.

“Jaskier, fuck. Jask, you need to calm down.” Geralt’s voice. Why was Geralt here? A hand touched Jaskier’s back and Jaskier flinched violently away, suddenly flung back into memories of alphas touching him. Knotting him. Impregnating him. No. No. Jaskier was carrying the baby of a man that had raped him. 

Jaskier sobbed harder, chest tightening painfully, the pain travelling down to his belly and feeling like painful cramps. Jaskier sobbed. His baby. His baby was hurting. “Fuck, Yenn what do we do?” Jaskier heard the voice as if it was being spoken through a layer of water. Muffled in his mind as hands suddenly wrapped around him.

Jaskier sobbed, arms tightening against his belly as someone brought him to rest against a solid warm chest. Hands rubbed gentle circles across his back and Jaskier sobbed harder. One of the alphas who had raped him had liked to do that. Knotting Jaskier and then lying draped across him, circling his back as he whispered what a good omega he was.

No, no, no, no, no.

“Fuck, Jask, please. It’s me. Geralt. I’m here. Calm down.” Geralt? Why was Geralt here? He was gone, he didn’t love him anymore. 

A hand appeared on his stomach, cold and buzzing with chaos. Jaskier flinched, pulling himself from the grip holding him pressed to someone’s chest. His back hit the floor with a thump but he didn’t register the pain. Arms wrapped protectively around his stomach, Jaskier backed himself into a corner, knees drawn to his chest as he tried to make himself as small as possible. He needed to protect his baby. He couldn’t let anyone hurt his baby.

…….

“Fuck.” Geralt growled, fear clenching his heart as Jaskier backed as far from him and Yennefer as possible. Jaskier’s blue eyes were wide with fear, darting across the room as he huddled into the corner, body wrapped around his baby. Jaskier’s hair was dis-helved, tears flowing down his face. He was pale, breaths coming out in harsh gasps as he sobbed into his knees.

“Jaskier, please.” Geralt whispered, falling to his knees in front of Jaskier. Jaskier sobbed harder, head burying into his knees as he shook his head.

“Please stop.” Jaskier whispered. “I didn’t want it…fuck…please just stop.” Yennefer came to crouch down next to Geralt, violet eyes filled with worry and pain.

“He needs to calm down, the baby.”

“I know.” Geralt snapped, regretting it instantly when Jaskier flinched further into the wall. “Fuck. Jask, sweetheart. Listen to my voice, you need to calm down, you’re baby...”

“No.” Jaskier growled, head flying up and fixing Geralt with tear filled blue eyes. “Please don’t hurt my baby. Please.”

“No one’s going to hurt you baby Jask.” Geralt promised, trying to keep as calm as possible even as his heart thundered in panic in his chest. “But you need to calm down.”

“I can’t lose my baby as well.” Jaskier sobbed, head burying into his knees as his shoulders shook from the force of the sobs. “It hurts. It hurts so fucking much.”

And as Geralt watched, he realised what was wrong. Jaskier had woken up to find Geralt gone. Gone after he had spent weeks believing Geralt hated him, hated his baby. Jaskier must have woken up and…fuck. 

“Jaskier, sweetheart listen to me.” Geralt growled, watching as Jaskier lifted blue eyes to meet his. “I need you to listen and I need you to believe me. I love you. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

“You left.” Jaskier whimpered. “You left me. You keep leaving me. I…I can’t…I can’t keep losing you Geralt. My heart…fuck…it hurts so much.” And Geralt felt helplessness and guilt wash over him as he hesitantly moved over to sit by Jaskier.

Yennefer was watching with concerned eyes as Geralt gently pulled Jaskier into a sideways hug. Jaskier whimpered but didn’t flinch away which Geralt took as a good sign as he gently stroked a hand through Jaskier’s hair. “I’m sorry I hurt you Jaskier. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t love you. I’ll never be able to make this up for you but Jaskier, you have to believe me when I say I love you. I love you and your baby and I’m never going to leave you. Either of you.”

Jaskier sobbed, burying his head into Geralt’s lap. “It hurts.” Jaskier whispered, arms still wrapped around his belly.

Geralt met Yennefer’s eyes, seeing the fear in his own eyes mirrored in hers. “Jask, can you let Yennefer look.” Jaskier whimpered, curling tighter in on himself. “Shhh, Yennefer won’t hurt your baby. You know she won’t. She just wants to help.”

The slight nod of Jaskier’s head was only noticeable because it was buried in Geralt’s lap. Geralt nodded to Yennefer who approached with caution. “I’m just going to put my hands on your belly, Jask. Is that ok?” Yennefer’s voice held the same tenor she had used when Ciri was a small child, comforting her after her nightmares.

Jaskier whimpered, nodding his head once more in Geralt’s lap. Yennefer gently placed her hands on Jaskier’s stomach, chaos flowing through the air. Geralt felt Jaskier trembling in his arms and tightened the hold he had around his mate.

When Yenenfer was done she sat back on her heels, a relieved look on her face. “Jaskier, your baby’s ok.” 

Except that didn’t seem to comfort Jaskier as Geralt felt Jaskier tremble and then start sobbing again. “Fuck, Jaskier. You’re baby’s ok, they’re ok.”

“But it hurts.” Jaskier whimpered, blue pleading eyes turning to Geralt.

“What hurts Jaskier?” Yennefer said, moving to rest a hand on Jaskier’s knees.

Jaskier looked at the both of them, pain and fear in his eyes as he spoke. “Everything. It all hurts. I…I didn’t want this.” Jaskier sobbed. “I didn’t want a baby.”

And Geralt felt his heart clench and Yennefer’s face turn into a grimace. “Jaskier, sweetheart. Did you want to keep your baby?” Geralt asked, voice quiet as he tried to keep it even.

Jaskier sobbed again. “Yes…I…fuck, I love my baby…but I…” Jaskier stammered, body trembling. Geralt and Yennefer could only look at each other in confusion as Jaskier spoke. “They got me pregnant Geralt. They raped me and they got me pregnant.”

Geralt tightened his arms around Jaskier as Jaskier continued to sob. How long had his mate been keeping all this bottled away? Geralt hadn’t even considered what Jaskier must think of all this, to wrapped up in his own feelings and as he looked at Yennefer he knew she was thinking the same thing. “What do you want to do, Jaskier?” Yennefer asked,, voice quiet as she squeezed Jaskier’s knee softly.

Jaskier turned his head to look at Yennefer, mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. And then he was slumping against Geralt’s side, tears falling down his face but no longer coming out in gasps and sobs. “It’s my baby.” Jaskier whispered, hands coming to rest on his stomach. “I…I wasn’t to keep it.”

Geralt saw Yennefer’s shoulders sag softly in relief but she didn’t say a word, allowing Jaskier to continue speaking. “But…but what if it looks like them.” Jaskier whimpered, turning blue eyes to Geralt. “What if my baby looks like the men that…that…raped me.” Geralt tightened his hold on Jaskier. “I don’t know if I can love a baby that reminds me of the men who raped me.”

“Yes you will.” Yennefer growled, voice firm in her belief. Her eyes were ablaze as she fixed her gaze on Jaskier. “You love everyone and everything Jaskier. You haven’t got a hateful bone in your body, you will love that baby regardless of what they look like.”

“But…” Jaskier whispered but Geralt cut him.

“No, Yennefer’s right.” Geralt growled, fixing his amber eyes on Jaskier as he spoke. “You fell in love with a Witcher. You have never treated any of us Witchers as if we were monsters even if that’s what the rest of the world believe, even if it’s true.”

“It’s not.” Jaskier whispered, trembling hand coming to cup Geralt’s cheek.

“You will love this baby Jaskier. You will love it more than anyone else could because they are your child.” Jaskier sobbed at Geralt’s words and Geralt pulled his mate so he was flush against his side. 

“I keep dreaming of what they did to me?” Jaskier whispered, hand gently rubbing his belly. “And every time I think of them…of what they did. I love my baby.” Jaskier whispered, blue eyes fierce as he spoke. “But it still hurts to know where they came from.”

“It doesn’t matter where they came from.” Yennefer spoke, voice quiet as she fixed Jaskier with her piercing violet eyes.

“The only thing that matters is that they came from you.” Geralt finished, kissing Jaskier’s head softly.

“You mean that?” Jaskier whispered and Geralt grunted.

“This is your baby Jaskier. No one else’s.” Yennefer spoke, squeezing Jaskier’s knee. 

“And we will all love it for that reason. No one more than you.” Geralt felt Jaskier relax completely in his hold then, head coming to rest on Geralt’s shoulder.

“I’m tired.” Jaskier whispered and Geralt grunted, wrapping his arms under Jaskier’s knees and lifting his mate bridal style. As Geralt lay Jaskier onto the bed, Jaskier curled around his stomach, eyes already drooping down in sleep.

“Stay with him.” Yenenfer whispered, hand squeezing Geralt’s shoulder. “Keep them both safe.”

“I failed him Yenn. I keep failing him.” Geralt whispered, eyes fixed on Jaskier as his mates breathing evening out as sleep fell over him. The exhaustion was clear on Jaskier’s face and Geralt felt guilt clench at his heart.

“You did.” Yennefer confirmed. “But you won’t ever do that again. He needs you. They both do, so do your duty and protect them.”

Geralt found himself grunting at Yennefer’s words, sitting himself onto the bed. Jaskier’s body moved instinctively to wrap around Geralt. Geralt hummed, hands coming to surround his mate as Jaskier’s head rested on his lap. Geralt found his hands settle next to Jaskier’s on his belly. The roundness of his belly where a child was slowly growing filled Geralt’s heart with protective love. This was Jaskier’s child and Yenenfer was right. Geralt would protect them both and he would never fail them again.


	11. Chapter 11

When Jaskier woke to the feeling of strong arms around him, resting on his belly he felt a sudden overwhelming feeling of comfort and safety. Jaskier slowly opened his eyes to find Geralt’s bright amber ones staring at him. There was a soft smile on Geralt’s face as his hands ran gentle circles along Jaskier’s belly.

“How long have I been asleep?” Jaskier asked. There was a lightness to his chest that he hadn’t had in weeks and Jaskier felt himself smiling up at Geralt. His hands came to rest on top of Geralt’s, fingers entwining on top of the swell of Jaskier’s pregnant belly.

“All afternoon and night.” Geralt grunted. “Triss was in a few hours ago with breakfast.” Jaskier felt his face heat up in embarrassment at the knowledge of how long he’d slept. “It’s ok.” Geralt grunted, “You needed the sleep.” Jaskier just hummed in agreement. He did feel better for it. There was no longer the heavy weight of tiredness in his eyes which Jaskier had been battling with for the last week. He felt…almost refreshed.

“Breakfast?” Jaskier asked softly and Geralt grunted. Jaskier couldn’t hold back the whine of disappointment as Geralt gently moved himself from under Jaskier. Geralt let out a huff of a chuckle at Jaskier’s whine and Jaskier couldn’t help but smile softly. 

As Geralt moved to bring the breakfast over, Jaskier struggled to move himself into a seated position. He was surprised to find his arms lacked the strength to push himself upwards and he was trembling from exertion as he managed to get himself sitting against the headboard. Geralt was by his side in an instant, having sensed his mate’s distress, concern in those amber eyes.

“Are you ok?” Geralt growled.

“I’m fine.” Jaskier tried for a smile but only a grimace came out. Geralt’s frown deepened and Jaskier smiled softly. “I mean, I’m a little tired but I’m a lot better than I was.” Geralt grunted but he still watched Jaskier with concern as he grabbed the breakfast plates and placed one in front of Jaskier.

Geralt sat back onto the bed and Jaskier let himself fall against Geralt’s solid weight beside him, sighing contently as he looked at the plate in front of him. His stomach growled but Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to pick up the food in front of him. “You want something else?” Geralt growled and Jaskier shook his head. There was a variety of fruits on the plate as well as bread lathered with butter and lumps of cheese but Jaskier knew the food would taste to ash within moments of eating it.

“I haven’t been eating much.” Jaskier confessed, voice quiet as he trained his eyes on the threaded blanket. He knew he had to eat for the baby’s sake but the thought of food these last few weeks had just left him feeling sick and empty.

“Try a little.” Great grunted. “You don’t need to eat all of it.” Jaskier nodded, hesitantly picking up one of the red grapes. He hesitantly put it in his mouth, the juice running down his throat as he bit into it. Geralt grunted, turning back to his own breakfast.

Jaskier didn’t manage to eat a lot of the food, a lump in his throat making swallowing difficult after he’d eaten not even a quarter of it. Geralt didn’t say anything though as Jaskier pushed the plate off his knees and snuggled further into Geralt’s side. “We can get more if you want some later.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier hummed, hand coming to rest on his bump.

“The baby needs to eat more.” Jaskier whispered, guilt welling up in him as he looked at the uneaten pile of food. “I can try…”

“Don’t make yourself sick.” Geralt grunted, hand coming to hold Jaskier’s own in his hands. “If you want more then eat but being sick is going to hurt the baby more. Better you keep some down than nothing at all.” And Jaskier felt himself sag once more into Geralt, guilt for the time being alleviated.

“Can…can we go down to the hot springs?” Jaskier whispered, voice hesitant as he spoke. Yennefer and Triss had had a bath brought up for Jaskier when it was obvious that Jaskier wasn’t able to leave his rooms for a while and while Jaskier appreciated it, guilt welled up in him at the thought of someone having to cart the water up to the rooms when the hot springs were only a few floors down.

“I can get someone to bring water to the bath.” Geralt growled and Jaskier softly shook his head.

“No…I want to. Please?” Jaskier asked, turning his eyes to look at Geralt’s face. A frown was fixed on his mate’s face but Geralt grunted a yes.

Jaskier watched as Geralt pulled out a pair of clean breeches and a chemise for Jaskier to wear down to the springs, handing them over with a grunt. Jaskier took them. They were bright red breeches and a light shaded purple chemise. “I…I don’t know if these will fit anymore.” Jaskier blushed, head dropping down to the floor as he realised his rounded belly would make fastening the breeches a chore .

Geralt hummed, frowning before moving around the room and replacing Jaskier’s chemise with one of his own. “It’ll cover the breeches not fastening until we can get them let out.” Geralt growled and Jaskier blushed a little.

They both changed, Geralt bending down to pull Jaskier’s boots on for him as Jaskier smiled softly. “I can manage.” Jaskier smiled but Geralt just grunted. In fairness, Jaskier knew within a few more months he would be grateful for Geralt’s help when his belly was so large he wouldn’t be able to see his toes past it. Jaskier shivered a little at that thought, hands coming to rub gentle circles on his bump.

“If you change your mind, say.” Geralt grunted as he took Jaskier’s hand and gently helped him to stand. Jaskier’s legs wobbled with the effort of holding up Jaskier’s weight as Jaskier found himself leaning heavily on Geralt.

“Sorry.” Jaskier whispered when he thought he might be able to hold his own weight, going to push himself away from Geralt’s hold. Geralt just hummed, hand snaking around to wrap around Jaskier’s waist.

“Nothing to apologise for.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier felt his heart flutter as he let himself press against Geralt’s side.

As they walked through Kaer Morhen Jaskier found himself pressing closer and closer to Geralt. Geralt’s arm was a firm grip around his waist, holding Jaskier close. Jaskier didn’t need to look up to see the concern in Geralt’s amber eyes. They had only passed a few Witchers in the corridors, the other 200 odd that had chosen to winter at Kaer Morhen in the training grounds, but Jaskier could feel panic run through him every time they passed one of the Witchers.

“Jask, you need to breath.” Geralt growled, resting Jaskier’s back against a wall as he circled his arms around Jaskier. Jaskier turned blue eyes to Geralt, he hadn’t even realised his breathing had started coming out in stuttered gasps again.

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier whispered. He hated how frightened he’d suddenly become. He had never been frightened a day in his life in Kaer Morhen and now he couldn’t even walk down the corridors without panicking.

“You don’t need to apologise.” Geralt growled, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s head. “We should be the ones apologising. All of us. This isn’t your fault.” Jaskier let himself rest his head against Geralt’s chest, Geralt’s arms tightening the hold they had around Geralt.

“They aren’t mad at me anymore?” Jaskier whispered.

“They were never mad.” Geralt growled, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s head. “They were afraid. We all were and we acted fucking stupid because of it.” Jaskier leant back blue eyes searching for any dishonesty in Geralt’s eyes but there was none.

“I’m ok.” Jaskier said and Geralt frowned but nodded his head anyway. Jaskier forced himself to concentrate on the steady warm presence of Geralt next to him, his mate’s arms wrapped around his waist rather than the eyes of the Witchers on him as he passed.

………

The warm steam of the hot spring had Jaskier relaxing instantly. Arms wrapped around his belly and Jaskier laughed as Geralt picked his mate up from the water before settling Jaskier onto his lap. Jaskier leant back into Geralt’s arms, eyes closing as his body relaxed under the warmth of the way. Geralt’s hands were flat against his belly and Jaskier blushed a little.

“Triss said the baby should start kicking soon.” Jaskier whispered. The springs were empty, leaving them alone. They were sat in one of the smaller pools so even if there were more people here they would have had some privacy. Though Jaskier was grateful they were alone, still afraid of what the other Witchers might say if they saw him.

Geralt hummed, hands rubbing against Jaskier’s belly. Jaskier chuckled at the feeling of his mate’s strong hands wrapped around his belly. Around his baby. “Do you they’ll be a boy or a girl?” It was the firs time Jaskier had been able to speak about his child with anyone since finding out about the pregnancy and he was surprised to find the excitement bubbling up inside him.

Geralt hummed again and Jaskier laughed. “What would you prefer?” Jaskier suddenly asked and he felt Geralt still behind him, hands stopping their gentle stroking of Jaskier’s pregnant belly. “Fuck, Geralt I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“A girl.” Geralt growled, interrupting Jaskier’s panicked rambling. Jaskier pushed himself off Geralt’s lap further into the water, turning to face Geralt with surprise filled eyes. 

“A…a girl?” Jaskier whispered, not fully believing Geralt had actually answered his question. This wasn’t Geralt’s baby, as much as Jaskier might wish it to be and he had no right to force Geralt into the role of alpha parent.

Geralt hummed, arms wrapping around Jaskier and pressing his forehead against his mate. There was love and affection in Geralt’s eyes as he spoke. “Or a boy. I don’t mind.”

Jaskier smiled, heart brimming with joy as he pushed his lips against Geralt. Geralt hummed against Jaskier’s lips, hands tightening his hold on Jaskier and leaving them pressed together. So wrapped up in the kiss and the feeling of their arms wrapped around each other, neither heard the sound of approaching footsteps before lambert cheerfully shouted, “Don’t fuck in the pool.”

Jaskier found himself freezing in Geralt’s hold, whimpering softly and sinking into the hot water as Geralt growled, standing protectively in front of Jaskier. There were 50 odd hot and muddy Witchers walking into the baths but upon Geralt’s growl and Jaskier whimper they all froze.

Eskel was the first to move, ignoring Geralt’s warning growl as he stripped his clothes and settled himself into the same pool as Geralt and Jaskier. Jaskier pressed himself closer to Geralt’s side, forcing himself to relax because this was Eskel. So far Eskel hadn’t shown any animosity towards Jaskier or his child so Jaskier forced a smile onto his face as Eskel grinned in greeting.

Slowly, more Witchers climbed into the hot springs, the sounds of their voices grunting and houting and laughing filling the air. Jaskier pressed close to Geralt’s side as they sat on the ledge, Eskel opposite them with a soft smile on his face. Jaskier’s hand rested on his belly as Geralt’s arm tightened around his waist.

“Mind if we join?” Lambert’s voice was hesitant, none of his usual brashness in it as he appeared at the edge of the pool. Jaskier felt Geralt growl warningly but Jaskier forced himself to nod. 

Lambert grunted, joining them in the pool along with Aidan, Letho, Aukes and Coen. The 4 Witchers sat on the opposite side, away from Jaskier and Geralt and next to Eskel. All 5 pairs of amber eyes staring at Jaskier with concern. Lambert’s eyes were fixed on Jaskier’s pregnant belly and Jaskier felt himself flinch at the fierceness in that glare.

“I should…” Jaskier whispered, trailing off under the glares of 5 Witchers. This had been a bad idea. They hated him, hated his child. They wouldn’t want Jaskier here.

“No.” Lambert grunted, eyes softening the way they only ever really did around Ciri and when he thought no one was looking. “Stay.” Jaskier nodded, sinking further into Geralt’s grip. He could feel the anger radiating through the bond as Geralt glared at the 5 Witchers opposite them.

“We wanted to apologise.” Lambert continued, ignoring Geralt’s glare and amber eyes fixing on Jaskier. “We fucked up.”

“We shouldn’t have taken our anger out on your baby.” Aukes grunted.

“It was wrong of us.” Letho grunted.

“And we’d understand if you wanted us to leave.” Coen continued.

“Or if you never forgive us.” Aidan added.

“But we are sorry.” Lambert finished.

The whole thing seemed so rehearsed, the Witchers all in varying degrees of uncomfort as they growled the words at Jaskier, even while their eyes radiated the guilt they felt, that Jaskier couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that forced its way out. And when the first laugh came out, he just couldn’t stop himself. Especially when all 4 of them stared at Jaskier incredulously and Eskel smirked at Jaskier’s laughter.

“What’s so funny?” lambert growled, glaring at Jaskier and Jaskier just laughed even more.

“I’m sorry…I…you just sound so rehearsed.” Jaskier managed between the fits of giggles.

“That’s because Yennefer made us rehearse that fucking speech for hours before she let us near you.” Letho grumbled under his breaths and Jaskier let out a full belly laugh at the thought of 4 Witchers standing subdued in front of Yennefer’s angry glare as she forced them to memorise the perfect apology.

“I take it that means we’re forgiven?” Aidan smirked as Jaskier’s laughter slowly faded away. Glancing up, Jaskier saw that Geralt was smirking in the same way Eskel was, hand gently caressing Jaskier’s side.

“We really are sorry Jaskier. Like I said, we fucked up.” Lambert grunted.

“Why did you hate my baby?” Jaskier found himself asking, voice quiet and unsure as he looked at the Witchers in front of him.

“We…” Lambert started but trailed off, glaring at the water. “We thought it was going to kill you.”

“We thought it was a monster.” Aidan continued, eyes blazing with anger for a moment before softening as he turned his eyes back to Jaskier.

“A monster?” Jaskier asked. They all kept saying that but Jaskier couldn’t understand why anyone could think a baby could be a monster when baby’s were the most helpless little things in the world.

“Yeah, a striga.” Letho grunted, leaning back against the side of the bath. “Met lots of striga’s on the path that came about ‘cos their Mother was raped.” Eskel and Geralt both stared at Letho incredulously and the large Witcher just shrugged. “Wouldn’t be laughing if it was a striga. Bloody things are fucking hard to kill.”

“You thought my baby was a striga?” Jaskier asked, voice breathless as his hands came to wrap around his pregnant belly.

“Some of us did.” Aidan contributed, rolling his eyes at Letho. “Some of us thought those Nilfgaardian bastards had used you to incubate some monster’s eggs.”

“Basilisk or something.” Aukes continued.

“Either way something really fucking bad. Only way to explain Geralt’s behaviour.” Lambert finished and all Jaskier could do was stare at the Witchers in shock.

They had thought he was carrying a monster. A literal monster, not a figurative one. Eskel was looking at the ceiling, shaking his head with a smirk on his face as the other Witchers spoke. “Seriously, that’s what you idiots thought?” Eskel asked.

Lambert shrugged. “It’s not like we knew what it was.”

“I don’t know, try a baby.” Eskel deadpanned and Lambert flipped him off before turning back to Jaskier.

“Point is we thought you were dying and our job is to kill monsters. We wanted to help.” Aidan finished and Jaskier felt his hands tighten around his belly.

“You…you wanted to kill my baby.” Jaskier whispered, heart pounding in his chest. He felt Geralt’s arms tighten around him, could imagine his mate glaring at the Witcher in anger but all Jaskier could think of was vengeful Witchers, sword in hand striking down Jaskier’s innocent baby.

“Until we fucking realised it was just a baby.” Lambert immediately said. “We wouldn’t hurt your baby Jaskier. None of us would.”

“You wouldn’t?” Jaskier breathed and he saw the hurt flash across Lambert’s face.

“No. It’s your baby bard. No one here will hurt your kid.” And Jaskier felt himself sag against Geralt in relief. His baby was safe. The Witchers wouldn’t hurt them.

His hand came to wrap around his belly, gently stroking where his baby grew inside him. “So, is that where the kids growing?” Aukes grunted, pointing at Jaskier’s stomach.

Jaskier blushed as he nodded. “Fucking weird.” Lambert grunted, eyes frowning at Jaskier’s still small pregnant belly.

Geralt growled next to Jaskier, gently moving himself from Jaskier’s grip before launching himself across the pool and tackling Lambert. Jaskier laughed as Lambert’s head appeared out of the water, spluttering angrily as Geralt smirked at him. “Bastard.” Lambert growled, launching himself at Geralt, a tackle that Geralt easily dodged, leaving Lambert falling into Letho.

As Jaskier watched the 2 Witchers brawling, Eskel and Coen came to sit next to him. “We really are sorry Jaskier.” Coen said, voice sincere as he looked at Jaskier. Jaskier smiled softly, taking the Witchers hand in his and squeezing softly.

His eyes roamed over the hot springs, suddenly aware of the silence that filled the room. Every Witcher was looking at him, even Lambert and Geralt had finished there wrestling match. Jaskier let his eyes drift to every one of his Witchers sitting in the hot springs before finally settling on Geralt’s amber eyes.

“You don’t need to apologise.” Jaskier replied to all their silent offerings of apology. “I understand why you were angry. Why…why you thought my aby was a monster. And I forgive you.”

And as the Witchers all grunted their thanks, eyes trained on Jaskier for a moment longer before turning back to their separate conversations, Jaskier felt the last tendrils of doubt disappear. Geralt reappeared at his side, Coen moving out of the way for Jaskier’s mate to sit next to him. Geralt’s arms wrapped tightly around Jaskier’s lap, hands coming to rest around Jaskier’s pregnant belly.

“You mean it?” Geralt whispered into Jaskier’s hair and Jaskier smiled, hand coming to stroke Geralt’s jaw softly.

“I do. I understand why you did what you did Geralt. You were scared and you wanted to protect me. So yes, I forgive you.”


	12. Chapter 12

Jaskier had proved drastically since speaking with the Witchers and realising they didn’t wouldn’t hurt his baby. While his face was still thin it no longer had the gaunt, pale, ill quality to it that had had Geralt’s heart aching every time he looked at it. Jaskier started to smile more as well, the full happy smile that lit up his bright blue eyes with happiness and made Geralt smile along with him. But it was the fond quiet smile that took over Jaskier’s face whenever he sat, hand gently cradling the bump where his baby grew that made Geralt’s heart warm.

The bump of Jaskier’s stomach had grown a lot in the last months. No a little over 6 months pregnant the bump was, well it wasn’t a bump anymore. Jaskier had complained bitterly when he had been forced to let out his breeches once more and had completely given up in trying to fasten his doublets, instead choosing leave them open or simply not wear them. When he chose to leave his rooms at least.

While Jaskier’s health had improved drastically in the last month, enough for Geralt to start to begin to believe that Jaskier would survive this pregnancy, he was still quieter and more subdued than Geralt had ever seen Jaskier. He was still laughing and talking and singing. To any outside person, Jaskier would seem to be the same bard he had always been. Happy, always laughing, always making some sort of noise. But to Geralt and the others of Kaer Morhen who had known Jaskier for so long now, they saw the differences.

Jaskier rarely left his rooms any more. He no longer came down to the great hall to eat with the Witchers, instead choosing to eat his dinner in their rooms. Geralt had taken to joining him, not wanting to leave Jaskier alone longer than he had to. But despite the fact since Geralt had apologised he had made sure to spend every meal time in Jaskier’s room, keeping his mate company, Jaskier still looked at him with a grateful smile every time. As if he didn’t actually expect Geralt to stay. It did nothing to help the churning guilt that had been filling Geralt since all of this began.

Jaskier kept to his rooms most days. He never turned away company, seemed almost relieved when anyone turned up in his rooms. Whether it was Yennefer and Triss come to share gossip, Lambert and Eskel with a pack or cards, Vesemir with a book from the library and a promise of silent company, or Ciri coming to tell Jaskier every detail of her day; they all received that same grateful smile Geralt always did when he entered the room after leaving for a short time. As if Jaskier truly didn’t except any of them to return. As if he thought he might still be abandoned.

It was hard for Geralt to watch. Jaskier pretended, pretended to well that everything was fine. He laughed and smiled and talked as if it was any day before he had been taken and raped. But he no longer walked Kaer Morhen, humming and singing or cornering Witchers in search of a new story to make into a song. Instead, the few times Jaskier left the safety of his room (usually only to go to the steams or because Geralt decided Jaskier needed fresh air and exercise) Jaskier was almost…timid. He would stick to whoever’s side he was with, usually Geralt though on the few occasions Geralt wasn’t available Yennefer.

Jaskier would always remain quiet in those outings. He smiled at the Witchers they passed in the hallway, would talk with them but only if the Witcher said something first and then he would almost always let the Witcher lead the conversation. And throughout every exchange, Jaskier’s hand would come to rest on his stomach, cradling the baby growing their as if trying to protect it from the people around him. It hurt to see. It hurt them all. But Geralt knew no one would blame Jaskier for the natural reaction. After all, despite Jaskier’s words to say he forgave them, despite the fact Jaskier held no animosity towards any of the Witchers that had threatened the life of his child, they had still done it. And they all knew it would take a long time for Jaskier to trust them again, if he ever did.

But that wasn’t what had Geralt’s heart bleeding and the guilt churning so harshly in his gut that he thought he’d be sick from it. No, those were reserved for the times Geralt returned after leaving Jaskier alone for to long.

Geralt tried to be by Jaskier’s side every moment of every day, the fierce need to be by his mates’ side when Jaskier was so very vulnerable all consuming but it wasn’t possible for Geralt to remain at Jaskier’s side all the time. He still had his duties as the leader of the Witchers, still had training, still had responsibilities around the keep that all the inhabitants of Kaer Morhen took part in when they were here. After all it was a large and very old castle and with only the Witchers to keep Kaer Morhen suitable for continued use there was always some job or another to keep them all busy.

On the times that Geralt couldn’t stay glued to Jaskier’s side, he made sure that there was someone to keep Jaskier company. He had no shortage of volunteers, none of the Witchers wanting to see Jaskier alone and they all gladly offered up their time to spend with their bard. But there was still times Geralt had no choice but to leave Jaskier alone. When he went down to collect their meals, when there was some urgent disaster that occurred (specifically only 2 weeks ago when Lambert and Aidan had been experimenting with new potions in the labs and had managed to blow a sizeable hole in the keep wall that had every Witcher running to the sound of the explosion within seconds).

He tried to keep those times Jaskier was alone as short as possible but he didn’t always succeed. And every time he returned, worry eating at him as he felt the pain through their bond, Geralt felt his heart break every time. Jaskier curled on his side, wrapped around his bump. Crying silently into the mattress where Geralt was and the feeling of soul-crushing loneliness and abandonment creeping through the bond.

It was hard for Geralt to see. Jaskier who was always so independent in everything he did, reduced to a crying mess when left alone for longer than 15 minutes. And fuck, it was all Geralt’s fault. Geralt had done that. By abandoning his mate when Jaskier needed him most, Geralt had done this to his mate. And that knowledge hurt Geralt more than anything else in the world.

……..

“Geralt?” Jaskier murmured, pulling Geralt; from his thoughts. Geralt let out a soft hum, gently running fingers through Jaskier’s soft brown hair. It was dark out, the fire roaring in the hearth to keep the winter chill from the room but Jaskier had still gone to bed that night shivering from the cold. “You ok?” Jaskier asked, voice muffled from where his head was pillowed against Geralt’s chest.

Geralt didn’t answer, just continued to stroke his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. He hadn’t slept all night, just sat in the bed, listening to Jaskier’s even breathing in sleep. If not for the pregnancy, Jaskier would be due his heat soon. Imagining Jaskier in his usual post heat madness, collecting every blanket in their rooms and piling them into the corner he always liked to nest, stealing Geralt’s shirts when Geralt peeled them off at night and hiding them in the nest with a coy smile. A memory that would always have Geralt smiling and chuckling softly, now only left a sour taste in his mouth as he remembered Jaskier’s last heat. Fuck.

“Geralt, love?” Jaskier whispered, rolling on the bed to a seated position. He wasn’t nearly as graceful as his movements always were, hampered by the extra weight on his front. Geralt leant into the feeling of Jaskier’s arms wrapping around his shoulder, pulling him down to rest on the crook of Jaskier’s neck. Geralt let out a long sigh as he was filled with the scent of honeysuckle and camomile and the clean, pure, milky scent of his pregnant omega. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

Geralt lifted his head to meet bright blue eyes, filled with worry and pain and once more guilt ate at him. Jaskier should be happy. Wasn’t pregnancies meant to be the happiest time of an omega’s life. Jaskier shouldn’t have to worry about Geralt, Geralt didn’t deserve it.

In the silence, Jaskier’s hand came to rest on the bump, rubbing circles there absentmindedly. “How long after the baby’s born do you think my heat will be?” Jaskier asked, voice small, head ducked down to fix his eyes on the baby bump.

“I don’t know.” Geralt replied, voice low as he buried his nose into Jaskier’s neck.

Jaskier hummed. “I don’t know if I can do it again.” Jaskier whispered. The salty scent of tears filled the air and Geralt lifted his face to see tears tracking down Jaskier’s face. He took a hand and gently wiped the tears from Jaskier’s face, earning him a watery smile in return.

“You don’t have to.” Geralt replied. If that’s what Jaskier wanted then Geralt would find a way to get suppressants for his mate. If Yennefer and Triss couldn’t make some then Geralt would go down the path and find the suppressants Jaskier needed. 

“You wouldn’t mind?” Jaskier asked, voice quiet as he leant further into Geralt.

“It’s your choice Jaskier.” Geralt hummed.

“Thank you.” Jaskier whispered. “And I’m sorry.” Geralt frowned, hands coming to wrap around Jaskier and pull his omega closer. Jaskier let him, coming to rest snug against Geralt’s side, heads pressed against each other.

“You don’t ned to apologise Jask.” Geralt grunted but Jaskier shook his head.

“I do.” More tears were running down Jaskier’s face now as he leant further into Geralt’s embrace. “I…I’m trying to be better but…it’s hard and I’m…fuck Geralt, I’m fucking scared.” Geralt didn’t know what to say, instead tightening his hold around Jaskier as his omega silently continued to cry.

“This is my fault.” Geralt whispered into Jaskier’s hair, guilt once more churning in his stomach.

“No. Geralt none of this is your fault.” Jaskier whirled in Geralt’s arms so their foreheads were pressed together. His bright blue eyes, while still glistening with unshed tears were fierce in their belief of those words. 

“Of course it is.” Geralt growled back, not making an effort to move from where he was still holding Jaskier. He knew that while he didn’t deserve to hold Jaskier, Jaskier needed him to and Geralt wouldn’t abandon Jaskier again. Not after the damage that had done. “I wasn’t there to save you, those bastards raped you and I wasn’t there to fucking protect you. And then I fucking abandoned you.”

“Geralt, what those bastards did wasn’t your fault and I told you I forgive you for leaving and I understand why.” Jaskier spoke but Geralt shook his head, guilt churning away in his gut.

“I wasn’t there for you. I left you to deal with this…this shit on your own and you shouldn’t forgive me for it. You should hate me.” Jaskier shook his head, hand coming to twist in Geralt’s hair to hold the alpha in place.

“No, I don’t hate you Geralt. You’re my mate, I love you, you fucking idiot. I would never hate you.” Jaskier growled.

“I hurt you Jask.” Geralt whispered.

“I know.” Jaskier whispered. “And I forgave you the second you apologised.” Jaskier pressed his lips to Geralt’s. “I forgive you so please forgive yourself.” Geralt didn’t answer, just let himself get lose in the soft feeling of Jaskier’s lips on his.

“There’s…there’s something I wanted to ask you Geralt.” Jaskier spoke, pulling back from Geralt but still keeping their forehead pressed together. “I won’t be angry if you say no, I’ll understand.”

“Anything, I’ll do anything.” Geralt spoke.

“I don’t want you to do this out of some mis-guided guilt Geralt.” Jaskier answered. “I shouldn’t even ask, it’s…it’s not fair to you but…I…I can’t do this alone.” The last words spoken were quiet, near whispered as Jaskier spoke them.

Geralt’s heart clenched as Jaskier spoke, worry filling him wondering what it was Jaskier possibly needed that he thought he couldn’t ask Geralt. “Jask, I love you. You can ask me anything.” Jaskier smiled, a watery sort of smile before nodding.

“I know you said you’d look after the baby if I…if I die.” Geralt flinched at the words but soothed under Jaskier gentle stroking of his hair. “And that…it’s, fuck, Geralt it’s a lot to ask you already. This child, it’s not yours and I know…I know it’s hard for you to love them.” Geralt opened his mouth to protest but Jaskier smiled softly, pressing a finger to the Witchers lips. “I know it is Geralt and I’m not blaming you. I’m not blaming any of the Witchers or anyone for finding it hard to accept this baby. They’re…” Jaskier paused, eyes filling with tears once more as he continued speaking. “They’re only here because someone raped me and…fuck, Geralt I know how hard it is to accept that. It’s hard for me as well but…I still need to ask you this and I’m not asking for an answer now and I won’t think less of you if you say no.” Geralt remained quiet, heart beating with worry as Jaskier closed his eyes, leaning further into Geralt’s hold. “I can’t raise this baby on my own and I know you’ll help, you all will. But…Geralt, I want you to raise this baby with me as their alpha parent.”

“Jaskier…” Geralt started but he was cut off with a gentle press of Jaskier’s lips on his own.

“Don’t.” Jaskier whispered. “Don’t say yes because you feel guilty and you think this will make me happy. I want this to be your choice Geralt and I’m not going to think any less of you if you say no.” Geralt wanted to say something, needed to but the shock of Jaskier’s question was eating away at him. Jaskier smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Geralt’s lips before lowering himself back into the bed, pulling Geralt with him until their heads touched the cushions. “Sleep love, I don’t need an answer now. Think on it.” 

And Geralt could only stare in shock, arms tightening around Jaskier as his omega curled into his chest, eyes closed and breathe evening in sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

“He asked what?” Yennefer shouted, voice filled with the same shock as Geralt had been when Jaskier had asked him to be the baby’s alpha Father. 

“Fucking hell Geralt.” Lambert laughed, slapping Geralt on the back, “Congrats.”

“You said yes didn’t you?” Eskel asked and Geralt just shrugged helplessly.

“Geralt, what do you mean you didn’t say yes.” Yennefer snarled, stalking towards him with anger filled violet eyes. “If you hurt him again I swear…”

“He wouldn’t let me.” Geralt interrupted before Yenenfer could snarl whatever carefully prepared threat she had made. “Fuck, he just came out with it and then acted like he’d never said it.” Geralt sighed, hand coming to run in his hair as he collapsed into one of the chairs in the large library.

When they had woken the next morning, after Geralt had spent the whole night mind churning in shock and confusion over what Jaskier had asked, Geralt had fully expected Jaskier to ask what his answer was. Instead Jaskier had just smiled, kissed him good morning and then pretended it had never fucking happened. Fuck.

“Where is he now?” Vesemir asked, voice filled with concern as he came to sit next to Geralt.

“Ciri needed some help with a few books.” Geralt spoke. He’d been beyond glad when Ciri had come to their rooms that morning after breakfast, a smile on her face and a large looking book tucked under her arm asking if Jaskier was free to help her with her elder speech. Jaskier had grinned and happily agreed, letting Ciri settle the large book on the table. It had given Geralt a chance to leave the room and think over what Jaskier had said. Or at least, it had given him 5 minutes until he’d run into Triss who had taken one look at him and all but dragged him to the library. And then called the others here at the same time. All wearing the identical looks of worry.

“And how is he?” Triss asked, eyes filled with the concern. “Really?”

Geralt just sighed, dropping his head into his hands. “He’s scared.”

“Of us?” lambert asked, voice ore unsure than he ever sounded. When Geralt didn’t answer Lambert swore, smashing his hand into the table. “Fuck. We fucked up.”

“That’s obvious.” Yennefer said, raising one manicured eyebrow at Lambert who snarled.

“Geralt?” Eskel asked, voice unsure. “Jaskier knows we won’t hurt him doesn’t he?”

Geralt nodded his head. “He doesn’t, even me. Fuck. Jaskier doesn’t hate us and I don’t think he’s scared of us more…I don’t know.” Geralt growled, frustration running through him. “He said he wanted heat suppressants when the baby’s born.”

“We can do that.” Triss promised and Geralt grunted.

“What are you going to tell Jaskier?” Yennefer asked.

Geralt shook his head. “Fuck, I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt him anymore but…fuck, I can’t be a Father to Jaskier’s baby. I…fuck, I don’t deserve it.” Geralt growled, anger radiating from it.

“Jaskier must think you do.” Vesemir spoke, voice as calm as it always had been when he had been training the young Witchers before the trials. Voice holding a surety none of the others felt. “If Jaskier says this is what he wanted then you deserve it Geralt. If you want it.”

Geralt stared at the floor in front of him, frown on his face. Did he? Did he want be the Father to another alpha’s baby? “I’m scared of pushing him away again.” Geralt admitted, eyes still trained on the floor. No matter what Jaskier had said not judging Geralt for his choice, Geralt knew if he said no it would only hurt Jaskier and he couldn’t do that. Not again.

“It’s Jaskier’s baby.” Eskel spoke, eyes trained on Geralt as he spoke. “No one else’s and you need to decide based on that fact Geralt. Nothing else. Not…” Eskel paused, voice turning strained on his next words. “Not because the baby’s only here because some bastard raped Jaskier.”

“Eskel’s right Geralt.” Triss said, dropping to her knees in front of Geralt and taking his hands. “This baby isn’t anyone’s but Jaskier’s, the bastard that sired them is irrelevant.”

“I want to.” Geralt whispered. He’d thought about it all night with Jaskier wrapped in his arms, pressed close to his body, baby bump pressed against Geralt’s side. All night his hands had trailed lightly over Jaskier’s stomach, imagining the baby that was growing here. Imagining Jaskier cradling a newborn baby in his arms, a smile on his face and Geralt had felt his heart sore at the image. The image of his Jaskier cradling…their child in his arms. Fuck, Geralt wanted that but… “But I don’t deserve it.”

“You need to talk to Jaskier.” Yennefer said. “You need to tell him how you feel.”

Geralt nodded, rising to his feet. They were right. There was no point discussing this with anyone else, he needed to speak to Jaskier. He just hoped he’d decided the right thing.

…..

“What’s wrong?” Ciri asked, emerald eyes looking up at where Jaskier was looking outside the window were snow was gently thudding against the window. He’d been doing that a lot since Geralt left, been doing a lot for months if Ciri was honest.

“Nothing.” Jaskier said, turning around and smiling to brightly. To brightly, the smile brittle at the edges and his eyes still showing the far away look he had in them only moments ago. Ciri frowned.

“You always told me lying was wrong.” Ciri spoke, emerald eyes challenging as she turned to Jaskier. “Unless it was for creative license or annoying Witchers.” Jaskier chuckled softly, eyes growing brighter at Ciri’s words. Ciri found herself smiling as well, glad she’d managed to get a genuine smile from Jaskier. They were so rare these days, Jaskier nearly always wearing the brittle fake smile on his face, pretending it was all ok when it wasn’t.

“Sometimes a lie is good if it helps people, Ciri.” Jaskier spoke, voice soft.

“And who’s your lie helping?” Ciri countered.

Jaskier was silent for a moment, eyes dropping to the table. “I just don’t want any of you to worry about me.”

“Of course we’re worried Jask.” Ciri stated, grabbing hold of Jaskier’s hands in hers and squeezing them. “You’re not yourself.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier whispered but Ciri shook her head, frown growing deeper.

“It’s not your fault. You’re allowed to not be yourself after everything just please stop pretending it’s all ok.” Ciri squeezed Jaskier’s hand softly, waiting until bright blue eyes lifted to meet hers. “We all want to help.”

Jaskier smiled softly at her, blue eyes filled with thanks and love. “When did you get so wise.”

“I had a good teacher.” Ciri smiled.

“And who would that be?” Jaskier replied, blue eyes twinkling with mischief as Ciri laughed.

“Lambert of course.” Ciri replied without missing a beat. Jaskier let out a mock gasp of shock, placing a hand on his chest in afront as he shook his head. The action caused his chemise to lift, revealing the large bump of his stomach. “I can’t wait until they’re here.” Ciri asked, giddiness filling her. Now the Witchers had come to accept Jaskier’s baby, Ciri herself growing more and more excited to meet them as the weeks grew on. 

“Neither can I.” Jaskier said, a fond smile growing on his face as he rested his hands on the bump of his stomach. “Now, I believe we were running through our elder.” He said, eyes coming to meet Ciri’s with a grin on his face.

Ciri nodded, turning back to the pages in front of her and her chest eased again. Jaskier might not be back to his normal usual self but he was getting better. Slowly but surely and Ciri had no doubt by the time the baby was here Jaskier would be back to his normal happy self.

…………

Geralt appeared an hour later, leaning against the bedroom door with a fond smile on his face as he watched Jaskier and Ciri pack away the books and papers that had been strewn across the table during the morning. Once they were done, Jaskier expected Ciri to say her goodbyes and leave but instead she turned towards him with a concerned glint in her emerald eyes.

Jaskier let out a surprised huff as Ciri threw her arms around him, holding him in a hug. “I really am fine Ciri.” He said, pressing a kiss into her blonder hair. He knew she was worried about him and it hurt to see the worry in her young eyes.

“You will be.” Ciri nodded sagely, tightening the hug once more before bounding off out of the room.

As Ciri disappeared, Geralt appeared in her place, wrapping warm steady arms around Jaskier. Jaskier let himself lean into the hug, pushing away the tears which were a near constant in his life at the moment. Fuck, he didn’t want Ciri to be worried about him. He didn’t want any of them to worry about him. He was trying so fucking hard to be his normal self it was just so hard.

Every time Jaskier thought he was getting back to normal something would happen to drop him back into the horrific pit of despair and doubt and abandonment. He knew he wasn’t alone. Knew every time Geralt left him alone that his white-haired mate would return as soon as he could but it didn’t help the doubt niggling inside of Jaskier’s heart. It helped when someone else was there to distract him but when he was alone. Fuck, Jaskier couldn’t seem to drag himself out of those thoughts of being abandoned, of his baby being abandoned and every time he let himself sink in those thoughts he found himself curled around his baby bump, crying into the mattress and shaking with loneliness until Geralt would return and wrap his warm solid arms around him. Which just made it worse because Jaskier could feel the guilt churning away through their bond, felt the guilt eating at Geralt every time he returned to find Jaskier crying quietly over something that Jaskier knew would never happen again.

It wasn’t that Jaskier hadn’t forgiven Geralt. Of course he had. He’d forgiven him the second Geralt wrapped him in his arms and said he would love Jaskier’s baby but…fuck it was still hard to forget that deep pit of loneliness, the feeling of utter abandonment when Jaskier had needed his mate the most. 

“Jaskier?” Geralt murmured, warm, strong arms wrapping tightly around Jaskier. Jaskier leant into Geralt’s embrace, closing his eyes as he let the heady spicy scent of his mate wash over him. “Can we talk?”

Jaskier cringed away from Geralt at those words, pretending he had moved from Geralt’s warm embrace as he moved around their rooms, half-heartedly putting the remaining papers and ink pots back in their proper place. “Jaskier.” Geralt said, voice gentle as he took hold of Jaskier’s waist and pulled him close.

“You don’t need to.” Jaskier whispered, guilt filling him. He hadn’t meant to ask what he had last night, had half hoped Geralt had forgotten about it when he hadn’t said anything this morning. “I understand and I’m not mad but please…” Please don’t say it was what Jaskier wanted to say. He didn’t think he could take hearing Geralt say he didn’t want to help raise Jaskier’s child. He didn’t blame him, of course he didn’t this wasn’t Geralt’s baby but still…no, Jaskier wouldn’t think that. It was selfish and wrong and he should never have asked Geralt.

“Sit.” Geralt said, pulling Jaskier away from the table to sit at the end of the bed. Jaskier let himself be pulled along, let Geralt sit him on the soft bed and pull him into a one-armed hug. Jaskier’s head came to rest against Geralt’s neck and he buried his face there, not wanting to see Geralt’s face as he told Jaskier he wanted no part in the baby’s life. “I’m a Witcher Jask…”

“You don’t need to say it.” Jaskier whispered, he didn’t think his heart could take any more pain even though he knew Geralt had every right to say no.

“Jaskier, please, just let me speak.” Geralt rested his head against Jaskier’s, pulling him close. When Jaskier didn’t make a noise to continue to the Witcher grunted and continued. “I’m a Witcher, raising a child…it’s not part of who we are. We weren’t…we weren’t created to love anything, to have feelings.”

“You have feelings.” Jaskier instantly shot back, raising his head to look at Geralt whose amber eyes with filled with pain. “You feel things Geralt. You aren’t a monster.” How many times had Jaskier spoken those exact words to Geralt, to all his Witchers? How many times had he reminded them they weren’t the monsters the world claimed them to be?

“I am.” Geralt grunted, pain laced in his voice. “I was a monster to you and your baby. The way I treated you.”

“I told you Geralt, I forgive you.” Jaskier interrupted, arms coming to wrap around Geralt’s body and pulling his Witcher close. “I will always forgive you.”

“I know you will, even when we don’t deserve it.” Jaskier opened his mouth to protest but Geralt spoke first. “Please, Jaskier, just let me say this.” Geralt’s voice had a tired hopeless note to it that filled Jaskier’s heart with pain so he nodded his head. Geralt so rarely spoke what he felt, if he was willing to now it meant he thought it was important enough to share and Jaskier wouldn’t interrupt if that’s what Geralt wanted. 

“I love you.” Geralt started, amber eyes fierce as he looked at Jaskier. “I’m not made to love anything but someone how I fucking love you and it terrifies me. I know I’m not easy to love, not easy to be with.” Jaskier wanted to protest but Geralt pressed their foreheads together, eyes pleading for Jaskier to be silent just this once. “I don’t treat you the way you deserve, I never have.”

“Yes you have.” Jaskier whispered, unable to stop himself from interrupting.

Geralt smiled softly but shook his head. “You deserve someone who is always there Jask, someone who can give you the life you deserve. Pamper you, give you a life of luxury away from pain and fear and being scared. You deserve so much more than a Witcher, you always have.”

“I love you.” Jaskier argued, pressing his lips to Geralt as if daring him to argue. “I have only ever loved you, you big white-haired idiot. I don’t care that you’re an emotional stunted…tree stump.” Geralt laughed at those words and Jaskier couldn’t help but laugh as well. “And I don’t want those things, to be pampered, living in luxury. Fuck, if anything Geralt that sounds boring as anything, I’d be running from that life within a week.”

“A few days at most.” Geralt chuckled and Jaskier laughed again.

“I knew who I was falling in love with Geralt, I know who I chose and I know what I chose when I fell in love with you.” Fuck knows loving a Witchers hadn’t been easy. Jaskier had lost count of how many times he had wanted to throttle his mate when Geralt had decided to be a pig-headed stubborn Witcher about…well anything. How many times had Geralt gone to a hunt, growling at Jaskier to stay away and nearly gotten himself killed? And then had the audacity to shout at Jaskier when he came to because Jaskier hadn’t listened and instead been there to drag Geralt back tot heir camp, or inn or sometimes Kaer Morhen itself when Geralt had been high off his potions or bleeding so badly he couldn’t move. “I wouldn’t change any of it.”

“I let you down.” Geralt whispered, voice subdued once more. “I failed to protect you.” Jaskier went to argue that that wasn’t his fault but Geralt interrupted him. “I know you keep saying it’s not my fault. I know I couldn’t have stopped Nilfgaard from taking you because I didn’t even know they were going to but I still feel like I failed you Jask. I promised to protect you when I took you for my mate and I couldn’t.”

“I don’t blame you.” Jaskier put as much emphasis in those words as he could. “I never will.”

“I know.” Geralt murmured. “But I can’t forgive myself for abandoning you when you needed me and don’t fucking say you forgive me, not when I know how badly I hurt you.” The argument died on Jaskier’s tongue as he looked into those pleading amber eyes. Fuck, Geralt had never been this forthright with him. Not in all the years Jaskier had known and loved his Witcher.

“You did hurt me.” Jaskier said, voice quiet as he spoke. If Geralt could bare his soul to Geralt then maybe it was only fair for Jaskier to tell Geralt the truth as well. “And I am scared that you’ll hurt me again.” Geralt’s eyes filled with pain, body moving away from Jaskier but Jaskier just moved with him, arms coming to warp around his mate. “I know I said everything was fine, that I’m fine but…I’m terrified of losing you Geralt. I don’t think I can take it if you did.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Geralt whispered. “I promise, I’ll never leave you again. You or your baby.” Jaskier turned blue eyes to meet Geralt’s fierce amber ones. “I don’t deserve you, or your forgiveness and I definitely don’t deserve to be in your baby’s life but…if that’s what you want then I would be honoured to help you raise you baby.”

Jaskier felt his heart thunder in shock, love and adoration as he looked at Geralt, searching for any sort of doubt in his mate’s eyes or through the bond. But all he felt from his mate was resolution and love. And for the first time into long Jaskier felt a wide grin spread across his face as he launched himself into his mate’s arms, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s neck and kissing him fiercely.

Geralt chuckled, hands coming to wrap around Jaskier’s waist as Jaskier kissed him. “Our baby?” Jaskier murmured and Geralt nodded.

“Our baby.”

Jaskier laughed again as the two fell backwards on the bed, Geralt’s arms still wrapped around Jaskier’s waist, Jaskier lying on top of Geralt as they kissed forcefully and hungrily, enjoying and remembering the taste of their mate’s lips on their own. And as they lay there kissing, Jaskier felt a small kick in his stomach.

He let out a small ‘oh’ sound as he pulled back from the kiss. Rolling off Geralt’s stomach, Jaskier’s hand came to rest on his stomach a frown on his face. Another kick and Jaskier let out an ‘oh’, feeling the vibrations through his hand. “Jaskier?” Geralt’s worried voice filled him but Jaskier wasn’t listening to Geralt, concentrating solely on where his, their baby was growing.

Tears ran down Jaskier’s face and he let out a choked sob of disbelief as he grabbed Geralt’s hand, settling it on his stomach. “Jaskier, what’s wrong?” Geralt demanded, voice turning frantic and then another kick. Jaskier let out a wet chuckle as he looked up to where Geralt was staring at his stomach in wonder, amber eyes filled with shock.

“Was that?” Geralt breathed and Jaskier laughed, lifting his head to kiss Geralt once more.

“The baby. Our baby.” Geralt hummed, rubbing his hand over Jaskier’s stomach, eyes still filling with wonder as Jaskier smiled up at his alpha. As the baby kicked once more Jaskier let out an ‘oh’, rubbing his hand over where their baby was kicking, Geralt just staring at Jaskier’s stomach as if it held all the answers to the universe.

And for the first time since the pregnancy started Jaskier finally believed everything would be ok.


	14. Chapter 14

Geralt couldn’t help but smile down at Jaskier as the first rays of sun flew from the window. Jaskier was curled on his side, head resting on Geralt’s chest, hands lying on his belly. His face was calm in sleep, a soft smile on his face that had been there since the baby had kicked, since their baby had kicked. 

The thought of Jaskier wanting to share his baby with Geralt still made Geralt’s heart stutter in disbelief. Witchers were made to fight monsters, to be as monstrous as the monsters they hunted. Mutants, feared by humans wherever they went. And somehow this bard, this ridiculous, colourful bard had waltzed in their lives, into Geralt’s lives and proven every belief the Witchers had wrong. 

Where humans were meant to run in fear from Witchers, Jaskier laughed and sang their praises. Jaskier who could have anyone his heart desired had chosen a Witcher, had chosen Geralt above all else. The reminder of that always made Geralt’s heart feel like it was growing two sizes. Witchers who were believed to feel emotion, who were told so many times that they felt no emotion that they believed it themselves; and this one human omega bard had proven years of believing what the humans thought of them wrong. Not just for Geralt, but them all. Because while Jaskier may have chosen Geralt to mate, to spend the rest of their lives with, there was no denying Jaskier loved every Witcher in the keep. Jaskier had made it his life’s mission to make the Witchers see the truth of themselves, that they weren’t monsters. And for the most part he had succeeded.

Geralt hadn’t thought his life could be better after he had met Jaskier, after he mad mated his omega but somehow destiny chose to shine on his life not once but 3 times now. First Jaskier, and then Ciri. Ciri who was the daughter Geralt had never believed he would have. No matter how he had rejected his child surprise in the first few years of claiming the law of surprise, Geralt couldn’t be more grateful for having Ciri in his life, in all their lives. 

Ciri who was a bright light in not only Geralt’s or the Witchers, but Yennefer and Triss and Jaskier’s life as well. They all doated on her. All loved her more than anything. They would all do anything for her. And now they would have a second child to love and adore. 

The circumstances of Jaskier becoming pregnant suddenly seemed so insignificant. It didn’t matter who had sired this child. Before Geralt had thought destiny had been playing a cruel trick on them, that the Witcher had had too many happy things in his life and this was destiny’s way of destroying it all. Except feeling Jaskier’s baby, his baby kicking…fuck if Geralt hadn’t felt the happiest he ever had. That was his baby. His and Jaskier’s baby.

Jaskier shifted softly in the bed, the sun haloed around him and the warmth in Geralt’s chest vanished as quickly as it came. The joy of Jaskier’s pregnancy wiped away as quickly as he felt it because as much as Geralt may have finally accepted their baby, as much as Geralt felt overwhelming love and the need to protect his baby and pregnant omega; Geralt couldn’t help but feel fear clench at his heart. How could he not when the knowledge that while Jaskier was so much better than he had been, there was still the chance that his omega may not survive the pregnancy.

“Morning.” Jaskier smiled, bright blue eyes blinking up at Geralt. Geralt pushed aside the thoughts running rampant in his mind and forced a smile onto his face. Jaskier, still half asleep didn’t seem to notice the forced smile, instead snuggling closer to Geralt’s side, humming in contentment.

His hand curled around his belly, stroking soft circles were the baby grew. 3 months. Fuck, 3 months and the babby would be here. That’s how long they had. Geralt felt his heart seize at the knowledge that in 3 months he might not have Jaskier close at his side. Fuck, he might not even have the baby. Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier, hands settling on the tiny bump as he forced away those fears. He was a Witcher, he didn’t feel fear.

Except usually he could fight away the monsters of people’s nightmares. There was no use feeling fear when it was so easy for a Witcher to slay the cause of that fear. But now, arms wrapped around his pregnant omega who bled comfort and happiness through the bond, all Geralt could feel was fear. Fear and helplessness. If something went wrong, there was nothing Geralt could do. There would be nothing Geralt could do to save his mate or his baby if fate chose to cruelly rip them from him.

“Geralt, dear heart. What’s wrong?” Jaskier said, blue eyes turning upwards, hand coming to gently cup Geralt’s face. Geralt closed his eyes, leaning into the feel of longer slender fingers, calloused from years of lute playing. 

“I can’t lose you.” Geralt growled, voice filled with more emotion than Geralt had ever allowed himself to feel. “And don’t tell me you’ll be fine. You can’t know you will be.” Geralt interrupted before Jaskier could get the words from his mouth.

“What can I do?” Jaskier whispered, voice filled with sadness as his blue eyes shone with worry for his mate. Geralt didn’t answer, just tightened his hold around Jaskier. Jaskier said nothing, just let himself be held in Geralt’s strong grip, knowing this was what Geralt needed. The closeness of the one thing he was most terrified of losing.

They sat there for nearly half an hour, Geralt focusing solely on the scent of his mate wrapped in his arms. Memorising every tiny detail. The scent of honeysuckle and camomile, of the hint of milk underneath that scent. The weight of Jaskier pressed to his side, the feel of Jaskier’s soft hair tickling at his jaw when he bent to kiss his omega on the head. Jaskier didn’t make a sound, content to let Geralt have the time he needed to control the emotions inside him.

They probably could have sat their all day but the tiny baby currently sitting against Jaskier’s bladder had other ideas.

“Erm Geralt,” Jaskier said, ducking his head a little in embarrassment. Geralt hummed, eyes narrowing in concern as he pressed his nose against Jaskier’s hair. “As much as I’m enjoying sitting here and would love to remain here all day, our little one is currently sitting directly on my bladder.”

Jaskier was barley finished before Geralt was moving. His arms moved around Jaskier’s waist, gently lifting Jaskier up in a sitting position. Jaskier smiled faintly, swinging his legs off the side of the bed before waddling towards the chamber pot. As the feeling of Jaskier’s weight disappeared from his arms, Geralt silently berated himself. He was being selfish. Jaskier was 6 months pregnant, he didn’t need Geralt to be acting like this. He needed Geralt to be there for him, Jaskier didn’t need to be worrying about Geralt.

By the time Jaskier returned, Geralt had gotten off the bed and changed into a clean shirt and breeches. Upon seeing his mate dressed, Jaskier’s face suddenly fell, blue eyes dimming and dropping to the ground. His hands curled tighter around the rounding belly and Geralt felt a stab of guilt in his heart as he stalked over to Jaskier, wrapping his arms tightly around his omega.

“I’m going to get breakfast.” Geralt grunted, kissing Jaskier’s head softly. “I’ll be right back.” Jaskier didn’t move, face buried in the crock of Geralt’s neck. “I can get someone to.”

“I’ll be fine.” Jaskier’s voice was forced as he pulled himself from Geralt’s grip, the smile he offered brittle. Geralt’s heart clenched in guilt, knowing if he left now Jaskier would spend their time apart fighting back tears, curled in their bed.

“Jaskier…” Geralt tried but Jaskier stopped him, stepping forwards and kissing Geralt softly.

“Really, I’ll be fine. And it’s not like I’m alone.” Jaskier grinned, motioning at his pregnant belly. Geralt frowned, torn between going for breakfast and gathering Jaskier in his arms and going back to bed. A small growl from Jaskier’s stomach had the omega laughing and Geralt’s decision made.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Geralt promised, kissing Jaskier on the lips. Jaskier nodded as Geralt let go and turned from the room, wondering if it would be frowned upon to run to the great hall for the food and run back. Deciding he didn’t care much for anything but getting back to his omega before Jaskier could sink into the despair he so often did when Geralt was gone, Geralt did exactly that.

………..

As the door softly closed behind Geralt, Jaskier felt like a weight had been dropped onto his shoulders. Pushing aside the overwhelming feeling of loneliness, Jaskier let himself fall into the bed, curling und the spot Geralt had slept. Tears burned at his eyes but he rubbed them away stubbornly.

Geralt didn’t deserve to have to return every time he left Jaskier alone to find his omega sobbing uncontrollably in the sheets. He didn’t deserve to feel the guilt that flooded through the bond every time it happened. But Jaskier couldn’t control it, couldn’t control the thoughts floating in his mind when Geralt wasn’t their to help pull him out of them.

Fuck, Jaskier just felt so helpless. Less than helpless, useless. Useless, a burden…fuck, not wonder Geralt had so easily abandoned him. A stray tear escaped Jaskier’s eyes as he curled tightly in on himself, hands wrapping around his belly, head buried in Geralt’s pillow, the scent of his alpha (a mix of heady alpha scent and onion). He really was useless. Useless and pathetic for crying over Geralt leaving to get him food. Of course Geralt was coming back, Geralt had promised. Geralt had said he wanted to help Jaskier raise his baby, their baby.

Except Jaskier knew how guilty Geralt had felt after abandoning Jaskier after finding out about the pregnancy. How guilty Geralt felt about wanting to kill Jaskier’s baby. Geralt would do anything to apologise to Jaskier, anything. Including agreeing to raise a child that wasn’t even his. Another sob broke through Jaskier. He knew he shouldn’t have asked Geralt. It wasn’t fair on his alpha. Geralt wouldn’t have said no regardless of how he felt.

What if that was why Geralt had left so quickly? Wanting to escape from Jaskier and the baby Jaskier had all but forced on him. Jaskier sobbed brokenly on the thought. Geralt might not come back. Geralt had every right not to come back. Who would want a helpless, useless omega anyway? Fuck, who would want to raise said omega’s fucking child, their rape baby. Fuck.

Tears ran down Jaskier’s face as he sobbed again. That wasn’t what he wanted his baby to be thought of as. He didn’t want people to look at his baby and see a child conceived from rape. No, Jaskier’s baby deserved the world.

A tiny kick to Jaskier’s stomach had the broken sobs teetering off. His hands came hesitantly to settle on his stomach. Another kick and Jaskier felt a soft smile run across his face. “I know little on. Papa’s just being a bit silly isn’t he.” Jaskier whispered. Another kick as if in answer had Jaskier laughing softly.

Rubbing away the tears, Jaskier forced himself to sit up in the bed, hands still cradling his pregnant belly. Reaching through the bond, Jaskier felt guilt well up in him when he felt the worry running through Geralt. He was an idiot, the biggest idiotic omega that ever lived. Of course Geralt was coming back. Of course Geralt wanted Jaskier’s child. His alpha had never once lied to Jaskier, even when he knew it might hurt Jaskier Geralt would always tell him the truth. It was just how he was and Jaskier loved that about him. If Geralt hadn’t wanted to care for Jaskier’s baby then he never would have agreed.

Jaskier sighed, closing his eyes as he rubbed at his baby. A soft kick had Jaskier smiling. “You’re a little restless int here aren’t you. You miss your Daddy?” Another kick and Jaskier hummed. “Me to.”

As Jaskier sat in the bed, eyes drifting across the room, hand rubbing the spot where his baby was growing, Jaskier’s eyes settled on the lute. He hadn’t played it in months, not since learning of his pregnancy. Jaskier felt his fingers itch at the thought and before he fully realised what he was doing he was climbing out of the bed and picking his lute up.

Jaskier settled himself onto the large armchair by the fire, hands already working to tune the instrument. Geralt had brought the armchair up for Jaskier in the first few weeks of Jaskier moving into these rooms. Geralt hadn’t given an explanation, only a grunt and an awkward expression when he dropped the chair by the fire. Jaskier hadn’t needed the explanation though. It was Geralt’s way of giving Jaskier something of his own in Geralt’s otherwise barely decorated room. Somewhere for Jaskier to sit by the fire like he enjoyed doing, reading or working on a new composition or simply sitting tuning his lute. Jaskier still felt a warmth fill his chest, remembering Geralt’s obvious awkwardness in the kind and loving action.

As Jaskier finished tuning the lute, he found his fingers dancing across the strings, an unfamiliar melody filling the air. Jaskier hadn’t felt inspiration hit him in months, 6 months to be exact. Not since being raped by those Nilfgaardian bastards. Yes, he’d played his lute to the Witchers afterwards, before knowing of the pregnancy. And yes, he had forced himself to sing after the pregnancy was known in a way to reassure the people around him that he was coping even if he didn’t always feel like he was. But until now Jaskier hadn’t felt the familiar itch for his lute, the familiar joy as his inspiration took hold.

Jaskier was grabbing an old notebook he kept on the small table by the fire, scribbling on the blank pages the beginnings of the tune with a smile on his face. As his hands flew from the lute to the notebook, Jaskier found words forming in his mind. Found those very same words flowing from his lips as he added the words to the tune he had started. As he finished the start of the song, slowly taking shape in his mind, Jaskier scribbled the words down ferociously. The beginnings of the first lullaby he would write his child overtaking every thought in his mind.

………………….

Geralt could feel Jaskier’s distress slowly taking hold of his omega as he stopped outside the great hall doors. The Witchers he passed gave him concerned glances as Geralt growled, pushing his way past the ones hovering by the door in search of food so he could get back to Jaskier as soon as possible.

Geralt forced his mind away from the despair crawling through the bond to focus on the task at hand, knowing if he concentrated to much on Jaskier’s pain he would abandon the food and run back to his omega, meaning he would just have to leave a second time. No, as painful as it was to feel Jaskier’s sadness, it was best for Geralt to get this over with now and get back to his mate, rather than go back to his mate and have to leave him again.

“Morning.” Eskel said in greeting as Geralt stopped in front of his usual seat at breakfast, frowning at the piles of food in front of him.

Jaskier always enjoyed fruit at breakfast, enjoyed the sweet berries that were picked from the trail. Geralt remembered to many times on the path having to stop Jaskier from eating poisonous berries because the bard took no notice of what he was eating, only caring that it was a bright coloured berry. Geralt still had no idea how the bard had survived on the path alone before meeting Geralt. 

“Getting Jaskier breakfast?” Eskel asked. Geralt just grunted in answer, frown deepening. Jaskier may have loved berries but ever since the pregnancy he had taken to frowning at them and only picking at the sweet fruit he had once eaten whenever he spotted it on the path. Fuck, Jaskier id that with a lot of food now.

“How about you take him up a bit of everything.” Eskel suggested, voice calm. Geralt growled but did as Eskel said, grabbing a plate and piling it with bread cheese, fruit. Fuck, he knew Jaskier wouldn’t eat it all but at least he would have the option of eating something he liked and Jaskier could at least eat some of it the rest of the day.

“How is he?” Eskel asked, worry in his tone. Geralt didn’t answer, frowning once more at the food before deciding it would have to do. He didn’t want to be away from Jaskier a moment longer than he needed to be and without a word to Eskel he turned on his heel and stalked back down the length of the hall.

Only to run straight into Lambert who had been laughing and waving his arms around in the air talking to Aidan. The plate clattered to the floor, the food falling with it and Geralt felt anger race through him as he clenched his fist. He would have punched Lambert if not for Vesemir’s arm tightening around his arm and forcing him into stillness.

“Punching Lambert won’t help.” Vesemir spoke, voice holding the same tone he had whenever the young Witchers under his tutelage became angry or emotional.

“Even if it might feel good.” Aidan grinned, earning him an angry glare from Lambert.

“Fuck did I do to deserve punching.” Lambert shouted but Geralt ignored him, the words only doing more to fuel Geralt’s anger if anything else.

Logically Geralt knew Vesemir was right but it still didn’t help quell the anger running through him. Now Jaskier would be alone that tiny bit longer. Forced further into the despair that Geralt was terrified Jaskier wouldn’t be able to get himself out of. Fuck, what if the stress of it made Jaskier lose the baby. Yennefer had said it was possible.

“Here.” Eskel’s voice, quiet as he pushed another plate into Geralt’s clenched fists. Geralt forced himself to unclench his fists and grunt his thanks to Eskel.

He could feel the worried concerned looks on his back as he stalked out of the great hall, Witchers quickly moving out of Geralt’s way as he made his way back to Jaskier.

……

As Geralt stood outside the door to their rooms, the plate held in clenched hands, he smelt the familiar scent of salty tears in the air. Jaskier had been crying. Fuck, of course he had been. Geralt had been away for nearly half an hour. Fuck, Jaskier was probably in a sobbing mess by now. Guilt clenched at Geralt’s heart as he grabbed hold of the door to open it, ears listening for the unmistakeable sound of Jaskier’s sobs.

Except Geralt didn’t hear sobs from behind the door. All he heard was…music. The soft melody of Jaskier’s lute and singing…Jaskier, singing? Shock filled Geralt as he gently pushed the door open, almost dropping the plate onto the ground at the sight that greeted him.

Jaskier was siting in the plush armchair he always sat at when composing. His lute was rested in his arms, cradles as gently as if it were a baby, resting lightly above the Jaskier’s pregnant belly. Jaskier’s head was bowed, frown on his face as he played the melody over once more, long fingers elegant in the way they plucked at the lute strings. And then Jaskier was stopping his music, hand grabbing the pen he had set on the side table, furiously writing in the notebook resting on his bent knee.

Geralt’s heart burst with relief at the sight and he had to place the plate on the dressing table to stop himself from dropping it. Jaskier’s head lifted, bright eyes shining in the way they only ever did when Jaskier was composing. A sort of manic energetic smile on his face as he looked at Geralt. Fuck, Jaskier looked like he was glowing.

“You brought breakfast.” Jaskier cheered, gently resting his lute in the case at his feet before jumping to his feet. One hand rested on his belly while the other wrapped Geralt in a one-armed hug in welcome. Warm lips caressed Geralt’s cheeks and the Witcher hummed softly. “Come on, sit, I know how much you Witchers eat and I definitely won’t finish all this even if the little one is a bit hungry today.” Jaskier grinned, picking up the plate before grabbing Geralt’s hand and dragging the still shocked Witcher to the armchair.

Jaskier settled into his chair, Geralt grabbing the stool he always sat at when sharpening his swords and pulling it close enough to Jaskier so their knees where brushing. Jaskier grinned, biting into an apple before sighing.

“You know,” Jaskier stated through a mouthful of the sweet apple, “I didn’t realise how much I liked apples until this little on came along.” Geralt hummed as Jaskier continued speaking, hand not currently holding said apple resting over his belly. “And I didn’t realise how horrid berries were.”

“You love berries.” Geralt grunted, earning a laugh from Jaskier that just confused Geralt even more.

“I did. Apparently our little one does not.” Jaskier said, rubbing his belly fondly. He let out a little huff and a laugh, grabbing Geralt’s hand and placing the sword calloused hand over his belly. “See.” As if in answer the baby delivered a small kick against Geralt’s hand. Geralt smiled hesitantly while Jaskier seemed to glow even brighter, blue eyes alight with fondness.

“I’ve been thinking.” Jaskier stated as he motioned for Geralt to start eating. Geralt did so, taking the berries Jaskier was ignoring and eating them. “The baby’s going to need clothes and by the time the path re-opens there’ll barely be any time to get everything we need.” Geralt hadn’t thought about that, hadn’t really considered what the baby would actually need when they got here. His mind started to run through the plans of how to get down the path even though the snows made it nearly impossible. He wondered if Yennefer or Triss would portal him down the path, he was sure they would if it was for the baby.

“And I was thinking of taking up knitting.”

“Knitting?” Geralt nearly choked on Jaskier’s words. Jaskier had taken to sewing Geralt’s and the other Witchers clothes when they became threadbare, had even taking to sewing tiny little flowers in the clothes that had ever Witcher smiling fondly when they saw them but knitting…

“I know, I know.” Jaskier sighed, smile still in place as he took a bite of cheese, hand rubbing over Geralt’s where it was still resting against Jaskier’s belly. “It’s all terribly cliché for an omega to knit but I want our baby to have some decent clothes. At least until we can get down the path and buy some.”

“Ok.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier seemed to beam brighter if that were possible.

“You don’t think Triss knows how to knit do you? I’d ask Yenenfer but honestly I think she might poke my eye out with the knitting needle if I ask.” Jaskier grinned.

As Jaskier continued to talk, planning through everything they needed for the baby, Geralt felt all the fear that had been building slowly turning to happiness in the light of Jaskier’s obvious excitement. Now was all that mattered. This time with his mate.

………….

Jaskier couldn’t help but sigh in mock annoyance as Geralt continued to hover unbearably. He was dressed, a light blue doublet and breeches that had been let out a few weeks ago. His doublet was open, one of Geralt’s shirt worn underneath as his own shirts only rid up every time he wore them. His hand rested against his belly, smiling in fondness at the thought of their baby.

“You’re sure?” Geralt asked for what was probably the hundredth time that day. Jaskier rolled his eyes, turning to face Geralt and pressing his lips to Geralt’s own.

“I promise I’m sure.” Jaskier said, smiling at the worried look in Geralt’s amber eyes.

It was the first time since finding out he was pregnant, over 2 months ago, that Jaskier was going down to the great hall for dinner. He wouldn’t deny he was nervous and perhaps a little apprehensive. Until now he had only seen the Witchers in small groups or in the baths, but this would be 200 hundred Witchers in a room. He had no doubt all eyes would turn to him and his baby when he walked in and Jaskier couldn’t help but feel the tiny hint of fear that the Witchers might still decide to hate his baby and believe they were a monster.

“Come on.” Jaskier said, grinning brightly and pushing those thoughts away. He needed to do this. He couldn’t be a recluse in his own home any longer and if he didn’t go now Jaskier didn’t think he ever would. Not when this was the happiest Jaskier had felt since finding out about the pregnancy.

Geralt grunted, arm coming to wrap around Jaskier’s waist as they walked down the long corridors of Kaer Morhen. Jaskier had spent the day with Geralt, discussing everything the baby would need. He could tell Geralt was a bit overwhelmed but he could also see the glimpse of happiness in Geralt’s eyes that made Jaskier keep talking. Geralt had barely said a word, choosing to hum or grunt in agreement as Jaskier spoke. By the end of it Geralt had written a long list of things the baby would need, which he promptly placed into his pocket before turning to kiss Jaskier. It was a hard kiss that said everything Jaskier needed to know.

As they stood at the doors of the great hall, Jaskier paused, listening to the din of the Witchers. Dinner had already started, Jaskier taking longer than he realised to find an outfit that actually still fit his pregnant body let along get the damned clothes on. He’d been a little embarrassed that his stomach had stopped him from being able to pull his own boots on but Geralt had just grunted, gently pulling his feet into he botos with a soft kiss to each ankle that had Jaskier blushing.

“You don’t have to.” Geralt said, voice soft as he pulled Jaskier close to his side.

“I want to.” Jaskier said, squeezing Geralt’s hand softly, free hand coming to rest on his belly. A soft kick had Jaskier smiling softly, resolve tightening as he pulled Geralt into the great hall.

True to what Jaskier believed, as he and Geralt walked in the sounds of the Witchers all fell silent. Jaskier felt himself sinking into Geralt’s hold, hand curling around his belly protectively as 200 pairs of eyes settled on him. The silence stretched on for what seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes, Geralt’s tense body slowly pulling Jaskier close to his side as if to protect his omega.

And then Letho and Aukes jumped to their feet, followed by a large group of viper Witchers, shouting the congratulations. The shouts were followed by Coen and a group of bear Witchers and then Aidan was in front of Geralt and Jaskier, wrapping Jaskier into a fierce but gentle hug, careful of Jaskier’s belly. Aidan quickly disappeared, replaced with another cat Witcher named Axel, and then another Witcher and another and another before Jaskier had managed to pass through every Witcher in the room.

Geralt kept a tight hand on his waist, a protective reassuring weight at his side as every Witcher offered their silent congratulations. By the end Jaskier’s eyes were burning with tears and a smile was settled on his face.

He and Geralt made their way to the table, the din returning as the Witchers continued to eat. Jaskier settled went to settle himself on his chair but Geralt grunted, arms tightening around Jaskier and pulling his omega onto his lap. “Mine.” Geralt growled, kissing Jaskier’s temple before resting a protective hand on Jaskier’s belly. Jaskier laughed in response, leaning closer to Geralt.

Yennefer rolled her eyes from across the table but Jaskier could see the relief in her violet eyes, while Triss beamed, unable to hide the tears in her eyes. Lambert grunted about “fucking at the dinner table,” which had Jaskier laughing louder and Geralt glaring at the other Witcher. Eskel nodded his head at Jaskier, a smile across his scarred face. Vesemir too nodded, amber eyes settling on Jaskier’s stomach with a fond expression. And Ciri grinned madly, settling herself into Jaskier’s now vacant seat.

A small kick to Jaskier’s stomach had the bard huffing, rubbing the area with his hand. Ciri’s emerald eyes narrowed in concern. “It’s just the baby. Do you want to feel?”

“Yes.” Ciri grinned, voice filled with excitement as Jaskier took her hand, guiding it to where the baby was kicking. It took a few minutes but when Ciri felt the baby kick her emerald eyes widened in disbelief and she grinned madly. “How long until they’re here?” Ciri demanded as she settled back into her seat.

“3 months.” Jaskier replied, voice proud as his hand gently cradling his stomach.

“What do you think they’ll be like?” Ciri asked, voice filled with excitement as Jaskier smiled softly.

“If they’re anything like they’re Father a pain in my arse.” Lambert growled in annoyance even as his amber eyes betrayed the fondness he felt.

“As long as they don’t take to growling like Geralt.” Eskel joked, earning a grumble from Geralt and a snort of laughter from Vesemir, Yenenfer, Triss and Ciri.

“I don’t care what they’re like.” Jaskier replied, voice loud in its certainty. “They’ll be perfect either way.”

“Yes they will.” Geralt hummed in reply, softly kissing Jaskier’s neck.


	15. Chapter 15

As it turned out Triss didn’t know how to knit. But Aubrey, one of the quieter Witchers of the Wolf school did. They had sat at one of the large fires in the great hall most evenings since, Aubrey ever patient as he helped Jaskier with the basics. In truth Jaskier was terrible at it, barely able to knit a tiny set of socks for his baby but surprisingly a number of the other Witchers had taken to it easily.

Gerd, a gruff bear Witcher had led a large group of bear Witchers in learning the craft and had successfully managed to knit more hats and tiny sweaters and blankets than Jaskier quite knew what to within the last 4 weeks. If anyone were to enter the great hall of Kaer Morhen, they wouldn’t believe the sight that greeted them of 50 odd Witchers all bent over bright coloured wool, the sound of needles clicking together underneath the general din 200 Witchers always made.

Jaskier was well into his 7th month of pregnancy now and he couldn’t remember ever feeling happier. Or achier. The kicking which at first had been the source of Jaskier’s new found joy was fast becoming an act of boredom Jaskier was sure. Every time he got comfortable his darling little one would chose that moment to shift ever so slightly to rest on Jaskier’s bladder, leaving the omega cursing with the sudden need for a chamber pot. 

His larger belly was fast becoming more and more awkward by the day. Jaskier had abandoned his doublets all together, not seeing any point in wearing them if he had no hope of fastening them. He was nearly constantly wearing Geralt’s shirts now. Partly because while Geralt’s clung to around his belly they at least stayed down unlike his own, and partly because Geralt’s amber eyes always grew bright when he saw Jaskier in his clothes. 

Geralt had barely left Jaskier’s side in these last few weeks and when he was there, Geralt was always touching Jaskier. Or more specifically Jaskier’s belly. His hands would snake around Jaskier’s waist, pulling him close or sitting his omega in his lap, hand coming to gently rest against Jaskier’s pregnant belly. The baby always seemed to react whenever Geralt was close, kicking softly against Geralt’s palm in a way that had Jaskier huffing at the kick and Geralt humming.

After months of barely moving from his bed, let alone his room; Jaskier was shocked to find his stamina severely lacking. He would always go downstairs with Geralt for breakfast and even on a few occasions managed to persuade Geralt to let him come outside to the training grounds to watch the Witchers and Ciri train. Geralt would always frown, worry clear on his face but he had never been able to deny Jaskier anything, bundling Jaskier in layers before taking Jaskier outside to watch.

The moment Geralt felt any discomfort through their bond though his alpha would be there, dragging Jaskier to his feet and herding back inside to laughter from the Witchers behind. Jaskier didn’t mind though, the omega part of himself preening at the protective actions of his alpha. They would head to the hot springs afterwards, Geralt washing away the sweat and grime of training and Jaskier leaning happily in the hot warmth before inevitably his limbs grew tired and Geralt took him back to their rooms for sleep.

Jaskier was always a little embarrassed by his sudden lack of stamina, leaving him near exhausted after only a few hours outside and a hot bath but Geralt never seemed to judge. Fuck, Geralt had even carried Jaskier without being asked a few times when Jaskier’s legs threatened to give way half way up the steep stairs from the hot springs.

The pair would have dinner in their rooms, sometimes joined by Ciri who was a ball of energetic energy, asking question after question on the baby and what it would be like with the baby here. Jaskier always left those conversations beaming and with his own excitement brimming in his stomach.

Most afternoons Jaskier spent either in the library or in the great hall, seated on one of the large warm armchairs in front of the sparking fire. Most afternoons he was joined by someone or multiple someone’s. Vesemir most often joined him in the library, a silent companion as they read through books. Some days Ciri, Yenenfer and Triss would appear, going through books as they trained Ciri in her magic. Jaskier would always drop his book to watch those lessons, letting out a cheer and clap every time Ciri managed a complicated spell, which earned him a glare from Yennefer, grin from Triss and a pleased smile from Ciri.

Other times Jaskier would be joined by a few Witchers at the fire in the great hall. Lambert, Aidan, Letho and Aukes liked to sit and plat Gwent by the warm fire. Coen liked to join Jaskier by the fire with a book in hand. Eskel and a few of the other Witchers appeared a few times, offering stories up of past hunts. And whenever Jaskier brought his lute down to the great hall, he would find the hall slowly grow quieter and quieter as the Witchers settled back to listen to Jaskier’s soft singing and playing.

And throughout all that Geralt would remain close, a warm reassuring presence at Jaskier’s side that had Jaskier’s heart-warming and a smile spread across his face.

……………..

“What’s wrong?” Geralt grunted as he glanced over to were Jaskier was stirring under the covers. The afternoon sun was just starting to set and Geralt gently placed his swords to the side as he moved to were Jaskier was pulling himself into a seated position, frown on his face as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

Jaskier had been exhausted that afternoon, having almost fell asleep in the middle of a game of Gwent with Letho and Aukes. Geralt had gently picked Jaskier up in his arms, Jaskier sighing contently as Geralt carried him back to their room. By the time they arrived, Jaskier was asleep, snoring softly as Geralt gently tucked him into the bed. That had been nearly 3 hours ago.

“Bit sore.” Jaskier admitted, rubbing at his neck before sighing and plopping back onto the cushions. He shifted in the bed, frown deepening as he rubbed at his belly. The baby must be kicking again, Geralt thought. While the thought of their baby moving around inside Jaskier only ever filled Geralt with wonder and joy he also knew the constant movements were taking their toll on Jaskier. “And I think our little ones sitting on my bladder again because I really need to pee.”

Geralt grunted, hand coming to steady Jaskier as his omega clambered out of the bed. Jaskier hummed a thanks, leaning heavily against Geralt for a moment before sighing and waddling over to the chamber pot. As Geralt watched him walk away, he couldn’t help but notice the slight changes in Jaskier.

His mates figure, which had once been straight, lean and thin had turned slightly curvier in the last few weeks. Mostly due to the pregnant belly that was emphasised no matter what Jaskier wore. But in the last few weeks Geralt had also started to notice Jaskier’s chest slowly changing. Just last night while Jaskier was changing, Geralt had noticed his nipples had grown in size and hold looked slightly swollen. Ready to produce milk for the baby Geralt thought with apprehension.

As Jaskier waddled back over, another noticeable change from Jaskier’s usually confident walk, Jaskier sighed, collapsing onto the bed. Geralt frowned, sitting next to him and wrapping an arm around Jaskier’s shoulder, bringing Jaskier close to his side.

“Where does it hurt?” Geralt asked as Jaskier turned bright blue eyes up at him.

“What doesn’t?” Jaskier laughed but quickly sobered up under Geralt’s intense frown. “Ankles and back are the worst.” Jaskier admitted, a flush appearing at his neck.

Geralt grunted. “Lie back.” Jaskier did, back coming to rest against the head board, feet in front of him. Geralt had noticed Jaskier had been more and more uncomfortable these last few weeks as well as though he couldn’t find a comfortable position to sleep in. In fairness Geralt couldn’t imagine it was easy with the size Jaskier’s belly was now.

Gently Geralt took hold of Jaskier’s sock cladded feet, pulling the wool from Jaskier’s feet before pressing his hands softly into the pad of Jaskier’s heel. The moan Jaskier let out was nearly pornographic in nature and Geralt couldn’t help but chuckle, gently massaging the ache from Jaskier’s feet and ankles.

He gently moved between to the two ankles, ensuring both received the same treatment. He must have done it right as when he looked up Jaskier’s eyes were closed and a contented smile was on his face.

“Take your shirt off.” Geralt grunted.

“You know I can lie down right?” Jaskier smiled even as he moved to do as Geralt said. Geralt’s eyes lingered on Jaskier’s belly, warmth filling his heart before he gently pulled Jaskier to seat at the edge of the bed. Jaskier hummed as Geralt moved to kneel behind Jaskier.

“Tell me if it hurts.” Geralt grunted before digging a hand into Jaskier’s back. Jaskier groaned, leaning back into the touch as Geralt worked out the tight knots in Jaskier’s back and neck and shoulders. “Eskel and Lambert are heading down the path tomorrow.” Geralt grunted.

Jaskier hummed in answer, body leaning back into Geralt’s hands. Geralt smiled softly, enjoying the way Jaskier slowly became more pliant under his touch. “The paths should be clear by now and they want to get a few things for the baby.” 

“Springs almost here.” Jaskier smiled. Geralt hummed, digging his fingers into Jaskier’s shoulders as Jaskier groaned happy and blissful.

“And so is the baby.” Geralt replied, feeling the warmth kindle in his heart once more.

By the time they were done the sun had set completely, the only light coming from the glow of the fire. Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier, gently lifting his omega so they were both seated against the headboard. Jaskier’s eyes were closed body almost limp in Geralt’s hold. “Do you think they’d mind if we stayed up here tonight?” Jaskier murmured, voice already sounding as if he were half asleep.

“They won’t mind.” Geralt grunted, hands wrapping around Jaskier to settle on Jaskier’s belly. Jaskier hummed, relaxing further into Geralt’s arms as his breathing slowly evened out into sleep.

…….1 week later (33 weeks pregnant)……

Jaskier woke that morning to a blinding headache and feeling just as tired as if he hadn’t slept all night. “What’s wrong?” Geralt’s concerned voice filtered through the pain in Jaskier’s head and Jaskier found himself groaning, burying his head further into Geralt’s chest. Geralt’s hands gently rubbed circles on Jaskier’s back and Jaskier was just about to drift back into sleep when the baby moved in his belly so it was pressed against his bladder. “Our baby hates me.” Jaskier moaned as he forced himself into movement, once more glad of Geralt’s steadying hands as he staggered to his feet.

Walking around as pregnant as he was harder than Jaskier ever thought possible and he found he had a new found respect for women who worked while this heavily pregnant. Fuck if all he wanted to do was curl into the bed and sleep until the baby was out of him.

“They don’t hate you.” Geralt grunted, hands resting around Jaskier’s waist as Jaskier waddled back towards the bed. Jaskier groaned, leaning in Geralt’s chest, head dropping onto Geralt’s neck dramatically. 

“If they were kicking your bladder every minute of the day you’d think they hated you to.” Geralt snorted back a laugh as he gently guided Jaskier into the bed.

“I’ll go get some food and bring it up.” Jaskier hummed, eyes already closing as he curled against Geralt’s pillow. He hadn’t been able to get down to breakfast the last few days, each morning waking to find himself still feeling exhausted. The headache was new though and Jaskier hoped it was just hunger or tiredness making the room feel like he was seeing double.

He was faintly aware of Geralt kissing his head before he was falling back into sleep, not even realising Geralt had disappeared.

When he woke again the sun was shining through their window, not quite noon but close enough. Blinking past the light Jaskier’s eyes automatically found were Geralt was seating on the arm chair, diligently running a whetstone across his already deadly sharp swords. As if sensing Jaskier was awake, Geralt lifted his head, smiling softly as he placed his swords down and grabbed a plate filled with bread cheese and one gloriously green apple.

Jaskier took the apple first, biting into the flesh and groaning at the sweetness filling his mouth. Apples, he hadn’t known it was possible to crave such an ordinary fruit but that seemed to be what Jaskier’s pregnant body wanted. That and the tiny strawberry cakes Vesemir made in the kitchens. One of which Geralt was producing and placing on the plate in front of Jaskier with a shy grin.

“You are a God among men.” Jaskier declared, finishing the apple and taking a bite of the fresh cream inside the cake. Geralt chuckled but didn’t say anything about Jaskier eating desert for breakfast. Not that Jaskier wouldn’t have bitten of his hand if he did try to take the sweet cake from Jaskier’s hands.

“Feeling better?” Geralt asked.

“Much.” Jaskier grinned. The extra sleep had done wonders for his headache, now dropped back to a manageable level. “What time is it?”

“Just after 10.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier grinned, finishing off the cake and a few bits of cheese before swinging his legs off the bed. “Where are you going?”

“Outside to watch you training. Can’t have you missing too many days or the Witchers will think you’re getting special treatment.” Jaskier winked to a grumbling Geralt.

They both dressed for the outside. Or rather, Geralt pulled on his armoured doublet and then spent a few minutes bundling Jaskier in every layer of clothing possible. Jaskier chuckled in fondness as Geralt fastened a large fur coat around Jaskier’s middle, wrapping a scarf around his neck and tucking it away. While winter was slowly disappearing, the snow finally melting enough for the path to open up (which Lambert and Eskel had taken full advantage of not 5 days ago) it was still freezing this high up in the Kaedwen mountains.

By the time they made it outdoors, the sound of metal hitting metal echoing across the training grounds, Jaskier felt like his heart was pounding and it was struggle to get air in. Geralt had an arm wrapped around his waist, worry clear on his face as he guided Jaskier to one of the benches. Jaskier sat down gratefully, leaning his back against the tree behind the bench as Geralt hovered in front of him.

“I’m fine.” Jaskier reassured him, already feeling lies better having sat down.

“I can take you back inside.” Geralt grumbled, amber eyes bright with worry.

“I’m fine here.” Jaskier smiled. “After all it’s not like I’m moving anywhere.”

Geralt’s frown deepened but he slowly nodded his head. “If you feel any worse shout and we’ll go back inside.” Jaskier nodded, head resting against the tree behind him as Geralt walked over to the middle of the training grounds were Ciri was training with Aukes and Letho.

In truth Jaskier was regretting his decision to move from his bed that morning. His headache was back and he felt exhausted. And warm. The snow was slowly melting but the massive snow drifts the Witchers had made while clearing the snow from the training grounds were still tall. They’d take another month if not more to melt fully. The wind nipped cold around Jaskier as he sat and usually he would be thankful for all the layers Geralt had forced on him but he suddenly felt very claustrophobic and warm.

“You ok bard?” Letho grunted as he and Aukes came to sit beside him. Distantly Jaskier thought Geralt might have sent the two large viper Witchers to watch him while he trained Ciri but Jaskier was too busy focusing on getting his hands to cooperate enough to undo the buttons of the fur coat. His hands were numb and shaking as Jaskier tried to prise the buttons free, his fur lined gloved lain forgotten on the bench.

“Jaskier, you ok? Do we need to get Geralt?” Aukes voice now, worry in his voice and Jaskier frowned, not understanding why the burly Witcher sounded worried.

“’m fine.” Jaskier slurred, blinking a few times as he turned to look at Aukes, trying to figure out which of the 3 burly Witchers sitting next to him was Aukes. 

“You don’t sound fine.” Letho now and Jaskier turned to face him. He must have moved to fast as sickening nausea ran through him and he groaned softly.

“Jaskier?” Geralt, why did Geralt sound panicked. Why was Geralt in hearing range, wasn’t he training with Cir? Jaskier groaned, dropping his head into his hands which only made the sickening dizziness all the more worse.

“Jask?” Ciri’s voice, small and frightened had Jaskier lifting his eyes to try and offer her comfort. Instead of offering comfort though, Jaskier’s head span sickeningly and he felt himself falling sideways.

“Fuck.” A voice swore, maybe Letho, as arms wrapped around him, keeping him from tilting forward off the bench.

“Jask?” Geralt, voice panicked as his hand came to rest on Jaskier’s knee. Jaskier just groaned, eyes closed. If Geralt was in front of him then who was he leaning against? He didn’t want to open his eyes again to look, feeling dizzy with his eyes closed let alone with them open.

“’m fine.” Jaskier mumbled, guilt eating at him when he felt the worry running through the bond. Blackness was eating at the edges of Jaskier’s vision. Which was a bit funny really considering he still had his eyes closed.

He meant to laugh at the thought but instead all that was a small groan as he felt his body top forwards and unconsciousness wrapped around him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if anything is medically incorrect. I have no knowledge whatsoever of medical things and am working solely off the internet. But if anything is blatantly wrong please let me know and I will do my best to correct.

Geralt knew he should have taken Jaskier back inside. He had known the minute he woke up that morning to pain filtering through the bond, Jaskier’s face scrunched in pain, leaning heavily against Geralt. But Jaskier had seemed fine after he’d slept more and eaten. Fuck, Geralt had convinced himself that Jaskier had just woken a bit to fast and that was the cause of the pain and exhaustion written on his mates face that morning.

Except then they’d walked through the castle and the closer they got to the training grounds the more Jaskier seemed to rely on Geralt to support him. Geralt had wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s waist, nearly holding his mate up as he struggled to get in air. Fuck, he had known something was wrong when he’d gently dropped Jaskier onto the bench and watched his mate lean against the tree, eyes scrunched closed and pain written on his forehead.

And then Jaskier had smiled at him, said he was fine and the flash of pain through the bond had vanished, leaving behind only Jaskier’s simple reassurance. Geralt had frowned, not truly believing Jaskier’s words but to afraid of hurting his mate more by dragging him back to their rooms. So reluctantly Geralt had listened, focus on the bond he shared with Jaskier ready to run to his mate at the slightest feeling of pain or discomfort.

“Watch Jaskier.” Geralt had growled at Letho and Aukes as he replaced the two Witchers in front of Ciri. They had grunted, stalking off in the direction of where Geralt had left Jaskier, only a few feet away but what already felt like a gaping cavern.

“Is Jaskier alright?” Ciri’s concern filled voice had filtered through Geralt’s hearing. When he looked up he was momentarily taken aback by the sight of the girl he considered his daughter.

Ciri had grown since presenting as an alpha. She was taller, still a tiny little thing but then there were very few people who weren’t when compared to the Witchers. Even Jaskier who was only a few metres shorter than Geralt could be mistaken for a much shorter man when surrounded by the burly bulky Witchers. Her sword, Swallow, was held in a firm right-handed grip, point pointed downwards but Geralt had no doubt the point would be pointed at his breast within seconds if Ciri chose to. Her ash blonde hair was pulled back in a long-complicated braid. It only seemed like yesterday when Ciri would charge into their rooms and demand Jaskier work the braid into her hair for the day and now she did the braids on her own. Geralt couldn’t help but feel pride run through him as he looked at the newly presented alpha. His daughter.

“Geralt, is he ok?” Ciri asked again and Geralt forced himself to meet worry filled emerald eyes.

“I don’t know.” Geralt admitted. He wouldn’t lie to Ciri about this, not when he saw the worry in her eyes as they flitted to where Jaskier was sitting.

Geralt turned to look where she was, frown on his face as he saw Letho and Aukes sitting next to the bard. Jaskier was pale, hands shaking. Jaskier’s gloves were on his lap so Geralt assumed Jaskier had taken them off but why he would do that was beyond Geralt.

“Do we need to get Geralt?” Aukes’ voice filtered to Geralt from across the grounds and within moments Geralt was moving. He could feel something odd filtering through the bond. Not quite pain but whatever Jaskier was feeling certainly wasn’t right.

He was distantly aware of Ciri following him close behind as he listened to Jaskier’s slurred response. Geralt fell to his knees in front of his omega, worry filling him as he dropped his hands onto his mate’s knees. “Jaskier?” Jaskier only groaned, head falling forwards into his hands. Geralt could feel the confusion and sick feeling filtering through the bond and it made the worry and panic inside himself amplify tenfold.

“Jask?” Ciri’s voice, quiet and frightened as she hovered behind Geralt.

Jaskier lifted his head, blue eyes blinking in confusion. A smile that was meant to comfort appearing on his lips but the affect was ruined as Jaskier tilted sideways, stopped only from falling to the ground by Letho’s arms quickly wrapping around the bard. Jaskier let out a pained groan came from Jaskier, his eyes closing scrunched in pain.

“Jask.” Geralt tried again. There was a crowd of Witcher surrounding them now, all giving off the same amount of fear and worry running through Geralt.

“’m fine.” Jaskier slurred once more but he didn’t open his eyes and as he said the words he seemed to dip forwards. Geralt swore as a pain filled groan broke from Jaskier and his mate tipped forwards.

“Fuck.” Letho swore, wrapping his arms more solidly against Jaskier’s now limp body, pulling the bard back to leaning against his side rather than falling face forward into the mud.

Geralt growled, hand coming to rest on Jaskier’s cheek. Jaskier didn’t respond. His face was deathly pale, lips almost translucent in colour. Fuck. Geralt gently wrapped his arms underneath Jaskier’s legs, gently lifting his omega into his arms bridal style.

“We’ll get Yenn and Triss.” Coen grunted as Geralt cradling Jaskier in his arms stalked past the crowd of Witchers. The Witchers parted like water as Geralt walked as fast as he could without jostling the limp bard in his arms. Jaskier’s head lolled against Geralt’s chest, one hand falling from where it had been resting on his pregnant belly to hang towards the floor. Geralt swore, quickening his steps. 

A flash of ash blonde hair ran past him, opening the door to Geralt and Jaskier’s rooms. Ciri was pulling the blankets of their bedding back as Geralt walked in, carefully placing Jaskier onto the soft mattress. Jaskier still didn’t respond, body limp as Geralt looked helplessly down at him.

“Help me get his shoes and coat off.” Ciri stated, voice holding the same briskness Yennefer’s held when she wanted something done quickly. Geralt did the actions mechanically, gently pulling Jaskier’s boots from his feet before gently sitting Jaskier up so he could remove the thick fur coat and scarf. Jaskier’s chemise was soaked with sweat and Geralt cursed himself for insisting Jaskier wear so many layers. He gently dragged the shirt from Jaskier’s body before gently placing Jaskier’s head back to resting against the cushions.

As he was finishing, the sharp sounds of heels clicking against the cobbled floors of Kaer Morhen appeared and Triss and Yennefer walked into the room. Well more stalked in Yennefer’s case. Triss’ brown eyes were large with worry as her hands flew to Jaskier’s belly, Geralt’s medallion tingling against his neck as chaos filled the air. Yennefer’s violet eyes were filled with anger as she pushed Geralt aside, running a comforting hand through Jaskier’s hair.

Geralt staggered away from the bed, eyes transfixed on Jaskier’s limp pale form. “He’ll be ok.” Ciri’s voice was firm but Geralt heard the tremble there as she grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed softly.

It seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes before Triss and Yennefer backed away from the still unconscious omega. “Is he alright?” Ciri demanded.

“He fainted.” Triss stated, skirting around Ciri’s question as Ciri dropped Geralt’s hand and replaced Triss at Jaskier’s side. She gently ran a hand through Jaskier’s hair as she glared at the room in general. Any other time Geralt would be impressed in the way she managed to mimic both Geralt and Yennefer’s glares into one, but right now his focus was fixed on Jaskier.

“And the baby?” Ciri asked next. 

“They’re fine. There’s no bleeding.” Triss said. A part of Geralt that he hadn’t realised had been holding its breath seemed to relax. All of a sudden Geralt found his legs didn’t want to hold himself up and he found himself collapsing onto the armchair. 

A hand appeared at his shoulder, squeezing in reassurance. Geralt looked up to find Yennefer’s violet eyes looking at him with concern. “What happened?” Yennefer asked and Geralt felt guilt flood at him. He shouldn’t have let Jaskier go outside, should have insisted Jaskier stay in bed. Fuck, he knew something was wrong and he had ignored it anyway.

“He just collapsed.” Ciri answered. Her hand was gently running through Jaskier’s soft brown hair, face lined with concern as she held onto Jaskier’s limp hand with her free hand. 

“Was he feeling ok this morning?” Triss asked. “He didn’t come down to breakfast.”

All eyes turned to Geralt and he forced himself to look from where his eyes had been glaring at the floor. “He was tired.” Geralt grunted, heart clenching with guilt. “I think he was in pain so I let him sleep in. But he woke up, ate some food and said he was fine. Fuck, I should have known something was wrong.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Triss said, squeezing Geralt’s other shoulder gently. “He probably was fine then.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Ciri asked, voice small from where she was seated on the bed.

“Jaskier will be fine.” Yenenfer said, the comforting smile reserved solely for Ciri on her face. “Fainting is common this far into pregnancies.” Ciri nodded, eyes dropping back to Jaskier so she missed the worried glances Triss and Yennefer shared. Geralt though did not but with Ciri in the room he wouldn’t confront the two sorceresses on the blatant lie. Yet.

A small moan from the bed had Geralt on his feet and stalking towards the bed in seconds. He sat on the other side of Jaskier, taking his mates other free hand in his. Jaskier’s face scrunched up, another groan filling the air as blue eyes slowly fluttered open. They were dim, confusion written in them as if Jaskier was just waking from sleep.

Glancing over at Ciri Geralt saw the relief on the girls face as she continued to stroke Jaskier’s hair. “Wh’t happen’d?” Jaskier’s slurred voice asked. He made no effort to move from the mattress and Geralt could feel the exhaustion Jaskier was feeling through the bond. As well as a sharp shooting pain that had Jaskier’s face scrunched in a frown.

“You fainted.” Geralt said, running a hand over Jaskier’s cheek. Jaskier hummed, eyes closing and leaning into Geralt’s touch.

“Jaskier, can you tell us what happened?” Triss said, she and Yenenfer standing at the foot of the bed wearing identical looks of concern.

“’m don’t remember.” Jaskier slurred, still not opening his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Yennefer asked, voice to the point but with an edge of worry that Geralt rarely heard in the violet eyed sorceresses’ voice.

“’m tired.” Jaskier mumbled.

“Any pain? Bleeding? Anything else we should know?” Yennefer asked.

Jaskier hummed, taking a moment to answer. “Little sick.” Jaskier mumbled, body growing heavier against the bed.

“Any pain?” Yennefer repeated.

Jaskier didn’t answer for long enough for Geralt to start growing worried, fearing Jaskier had dropped into sleep or fainted again but Jaskier slowly blinked his eyes open, frowning a little before answering. “Head hurts.”

“Ok.” Yennefer said, a frown appearing on her face. “Have you seen any bleeding today?” Jaskier shook his head rather than answer, which resulted in him letting out a pained whimper.

“Don’t try to move.” Geralt murmured, Ciri still running her hand through Jaskier’s hair so Geralt settled for squeezing Jaskier’s hand.

“’m tired.” Jaskier repeated, body growing lax once more.

“It’s ok Jaskier, you get some sleep. We’ll come check on you when you’re awake.” Triss said, resting her hand on Jaskier’s leg for a moment. Jaskier hummed before his eyes closed once more and he drifted into sleep.

………

Geralt closed the door behind him as he followed Triss and Yenenfer from the room. Ciri was still sitting on the bed next to Jaskier which Geralt was grateful for. As much as he wanted the truth from Yennefer and Triss he didn’t want to leave Jaskier alone, not when his omega looked so fragile lying on the bed.

“What’s wrong with him?” Geralt growled as Triss and Yennefer turned to face him. Triss and Yenenfer exchanged looks and Triss seemed to sink on herself as she leant against the wall. Yennefer didn’t move but Geralt could see the line of tension in her shoulders as her gaze drifted to the not closed door.

“It’s not good Geralt.” Triss admitted. 

“Can you fix it?” Geralt growled and Triss shook her head. Geralt growled angrily, stalking back down the corridor suddenly unable to stand still as his heart pounded. “What’s wrong?”

“Pre-eclampsia.” Triss stated and Geralt looked at her, silently telling her to explain. “It’s a new term and it doesn’t affect every pregnancy but…we think Jaskier has it.”

“Think?” Geralt snarled angrily.

“Geralt.” Yennefer’s voice was firm as she placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. “We’re not trained doctors or midwives, we’re doing our best.”

“You’re fucking best isn’t good enough.” Geralt raged, anger filling him at the thought of Jaskier’s unconscious lax face, pale and fragile. Fuck.

“You’re upset so I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” Yennefer said, voice harsh as chaos buzzed around the air she was standing. Her violet eyes were filled with anger but she remained calm as she spoke. “We are doing our best but there is nothing we can do.”

“There has to be something.” Geralt growled, fists clenching angrily at his side. “Fuck, Yenn I can’t lose him.”

“When the baby’s born he should be fine but…” Triss trailed off, brown eyes shining with unshed tears flickered to the closed door. “It’s too early.”

“Like fuck it is he’s 7 months pregnant.” Geralt growled. “Fuck the baby’s kicking, they must be ok to come out.”

“He’s 33 weeks pregnant.” Triss said, not cowering under the glare Geralt gave her because what did it fucking matter. If getting the baby out of Jaskier would help his mate then surely it would be ok. Surely they both would be ok. “He won’t be ready to give birth for another 6 weeks Geralt.”

“Geralt, if Jaskier gave birth now the baby might not be survive. They’d be too small, not developed properly.” Geralt felt himself leaning against the wall, fear overtaking him at Yennefer’s words. Fuck, he just wanted to do something but what could he do. Nothing. There was nothing he could do.

“What’s going to happen to him?” Geralt whispered, aware his voice sounded pained as he spoke.

“We don’t know.” Triss admitted, hesitantly placing a hand on the Witchers shoulder. “He might be fine, he might not get any worse.”

“If he does?” Geralt growled needing to know, needing to know how much worse Jaskier was going to get so he could prepare himself at least a little bit. “Could he die?” When neither Yennefer nor Triss answered Geralt knew he had his answer. Geralt growled angrily, fist clenching and before he knew it he had punched his fist against the hard stone wall. He was distantly aware of blood dripping down his hand but he didn’t notice or care. Fuck, Jaskier might die. “When can you get the baby out?” Geralt growled.

“It’s better for the baby to stay inside for the full term.” Yennefer spoke, hand coming to rest on Geralt’s shoulder but Geralt shook her head.

“When?” Geralt repeated. 6 weeks was too long. Fuck knew what might happen in 6 weeks. Fuck, if he lost Jaskier. Fuck, Geralt wouldn’t even consider it.

“36 weeks. At the earliest.” Triss said.

“It’s too long.” Geralt growled, pain lacing through his heart.

“If we want the baby to live that’s as early as I’d feel comfortable for them to be born.” Triss spoke. “And Jaskier might not get worse.”

“I can’t lose him.” Geralt repeated.

“We’ll do everything we can to make sure you don’t.” Triss promised. She and Yennefer both placed a hand on Geralt’s shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“What can I do?” Geralt whispered, head dropping to rest on the stone wall. He couldn’t just sit and do nothing, he had to do something. Anything.

“He needs bed rest.” Yennefer spoke. “I don’t want him left on his own. We’ll keep an eye on him as much as we can but if something happens when we’re not there.”

“I won’t leave him alone.” Geralt interrupted, resolve tightening in his heart. If that was all he could do he wouldn’t leave Jaskier alone until the baby was born. Not until he knew Jaskier was ok, and maybe not even after that.. 

……

When Geralt walked back into the room, knuckle red and flecked with dry blood; Ciri barely noticed. Her eyes were fixed on Jaskier, gently running fingers through his hair in the way he had always done when she was ill or upset. She felt tears pinprick at her eyes but rubbed them away stubbornly. He looked so fragile lying against the blankets that seemed to swallow him up.

“You ok?” Geralt grumbled, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Ciri didn’t answer, not trusting her voice not to break. “You don’t have to stay you know.”

“I want to.” Ciri answered, voice fierce as her hand tightened where it was holding Jaskier. They couldn’t make her leave Jaskier, not when he looked so fragile. Not when he needed them. She didn’t care what they did she wasn’t going anywhere.

Geralt didn’t argue, just grunted, coming to sit on the other side of the bed. She watched as his amber eyes, filled with affection he only ever showed to Ciri or Jaskier. “Stay as long as you need.” Geralt grumbled, hand coming to trail Jaskier’s jaw. Small smile appeared on Jaskier’s face and Geralt hummed.

“Is he going to be ok?” Ciri asked, fear in her voice as she turned emerald eyes on Geralt.

“I don’t know.” Geralt admitted and Ciri felt the tears that she had been holding back upon seeing Jaskier collapse break free. She didn’t want to lose Jaskier. None of them did. He was the glue that held their family together, without him there to show them kindness, love, affection…did that still make them a family?

“I hate it.” Ciri whispered, tears running freely down her face. Geralt turned confused amber eyes on Ciri as she continued to speak. “I hate that I can’t do anything and I hate…I hate how his baby’s hurting him like this.”

“It’s not the baby’s fault.” Geralt murmured.

“I know.” Ciri snarled, anger filling her. Of course she knew that, it was an innocent baby but that didn’t change the fact that without it there Jaskier would be fine. “I just want everything to go back to the way it was.”

“I know Ciri, I do to.” 

“Does that make us monsters?” Ciri whispered, hand trembling in Jaskier’s hair.

“No Ciri.” Geralt murmured, moving from Jaskier’s side to sit by her. He wrapped a gentle arm around her shoulder and she let herself be buried in his firm chest. “It makes us human.”


	17. Chapter 17

After his collapse Jaskier kept getting worse and worse. Geralt could see Jaskier slowly fading away as the days crept past. The omega was always tired, exhausted even. Seeming to sleep most of the days away, hands wrapped carefully around his growing belly. His face which had gained a to of the fat he had lost in that first month of pregnancy was slowly growing thinner once more. 

The first time Jaskier was sick, 4 days after his collapse, Geralt had felt his heart plummet through his feet. Jaskier had waved off his concern saying he must have just eaten something bad but when the sickness continued tot he point Jaskier could barely stomach the food Geralt had brought up to their rooms now. Even the cravings Jaskier had begun to have had disappeared, the very sight or smell of food sending Jaskier pale and rubbing his stomach as if in pain. 

Geralt hadn’t left Jaskier’s side since the collapse, refusing to leave, to scared that if he did then something might happen. Vesemir had had a few of the Witcher brings up a large copper bath tub and each day Witchers would walk water up to the rooms so Jaskier could have a bath. Jaskier would always duck his head as he said thank you, embarrassment and guilt welling through the bond. Geralt knew it was hard for his mate to be treated like an invalid but what choice did they have.

Triss and Yennefer and had confined Jaskier to bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy. Geralt had expected a fight. Despite the obvious discomfort and exhaustion nearly written in Jaskier’s face at this point, Geralt had still expected something. Arguing, yelling. Fuck, even a simple huff of annoyance. Instead Jaskier had just stared at the blanket on his feet and hummed in acceptance, blue eyes hooded in defeat. It hurt Geralt to see.

What hurt most was Jaskier’s reaction to all this. A week after Jaskier’s collapse, Geralt had been lying unable to sleep with his arms wrapped around Jaskier tightly. When Jaskier had stirred, a grimace on his face as he rubbed at a spot on his side that had was hurting on and off for the last few days. Geralt had asked Triss about it in a fit of worry and she had just smiled sadly and said it was just another side affect. Another to add to the constant sickness and headaches and exhaustion. Geralt hadn’t even had the energy to be angry about another thing causing his Jaskier to hurt anymore, simply feeling the weight in his heart grow all the more heavier to know there was now something else to hurt and cause his Jaskier discomfort.

“Geralt.” Jaskier had murmured, turning sleep blurred blue eyes up at Geralt. Geralt hadn’t said a word, simply pulling Jaskier closer as he waited for Jaskier to say what he needed to say. “I’m scared.” Jaskier had whispered, voice filled with pain. And what was Geralt supposed to say to that except tighten his hold further and bury his face into Jaskier’s hair as his mate curled tightly into Geralt’s broad chest. Fuck, Geralt felt like his heart was being torn bodily from his chest and there was nothing he could do about it.

..........

Eskel and lambert returned to Kaer Morhen 8 days after Jaskier’s collapse. They were in high spirits as they pulled the cart laden with gifts for the baby. They’d spent their time on the path in the nearby villages, collecting everything that they thought the baby would need and some things the baby probably didn’t need but they thought they should get just in case. The villagers had seemed confused at the idea of Witchers needing nappies and baby bottles and clothing but to fearful of the Witchers to ask, they hadn’t said anything simply giving the Witchers everything they asked for. 

As the walked towards the stables, the two Witchers could feel the atmosphere heavy in the air. “What the fuck?” Lambert growled as he glared at the near empty grounds. Usually their would be Witchers everywhere. Some working in the stables, some training in the grounds, some just fucking around out of boredom. And now the path was opening up, the winter snows finally starting to disappear Lambert had fully expected to come back to a stable full of charging Witchers ready to go back down the path. Instead the place was as silent as the dead.

Fear gripping both Witchers hearts, they ran towards Kaer Morhen, abandoning the horses and cart outside. The minute they entered the keep, they nearly charged into Coen.

“What the fuck happened?” Lambert demanded. Coen looked at the 2 Witchers, a sad expression in his amber eyes.

“Jaskier collapsed.” Coen started but he didn’t get a chance to finish as Lambert was already storming off down the hall in search of the Witchers omega.

Eskel stared at Coen, heart hammering against his chest in fear. “Is he ok?”

“He’s alive.” Coen answered but from the heavy look in the griffin Witchers eyes Eskel knew that it wasn’t good.

By the time Eskel reached the hallway leading to Jaskier and Geralt’s rooms, he saw Lambert. His brothers fist was raised to knock on the door but he seemed frozen in place, face a mask of grief which Eskel had only ever seen on Lambert’s face once, after the trials. Eskel didn’t say a word as he dropped a hand on Lambert’s shoulder, squeezing softly before knocking on the door.

It took a few moments for Geralt to answer but when he did Eskel and Lambert both took a step back in shock. The white wolf, the warlord of the Witchers, butcher of Blaviken looked like shit. There was no better way to describe it. Geralt’s white hair was sticking at odd angles as if he’d been running his hands through it constantly. His face was haggard, amber eyes betraying the grief and pain he was feeling. Whoever said Witchers were unfeeling monsters only had to look at the pain on Geralt’s face to know they were wrong.

“Fuck, is he...”. lambert started but trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Geralt shook his head, moving slightly to allow Lambert and Eskel a look into the room. Jaskier was lying curled on the bed, sleeping. They couldn’t see much under the blankets and furs covering him but they knew it was bad from the look on Geralt’s face.

“The baby?” Eskel asked.

“It’s fine.” Geralt grunted, voice low so as not to disturb Jaskier.

“Can we...fuck, can we can come in?” Lambert asked and Geralt nodded, moving from the door to let his brothers through. Lambert made his way to the bed, hovering momentarily at Jaskier’s bedside before dropping onto a chair, head falling into his hands.

“Geralt,”. Eskel started but Geralt cut him off with a glare.

“Don’t.” Geralt growled and Eskel knew the tone in Geralt’s voice well enough not to push however much he wanted to. instead he followed Lambert into the room, eyes trailing over Jaskier’s body curled tightly in sleep. He could just make out the outline of his pregnant belly and Eskel couldn’t help but feel an ache in his heart at the sight.

It was only a tiny innocent baby, how it could cause so much pain and suffering Eskel couldn’t understand. 

They stayed until Jaskier was awake, both Witchers needing the comfort of seeing Jaskier awake before being able to leave. Geralt allowed it, moving to sit on the bed with Jaskier. jaskier, seemingly sensing Geralt’s presence even in sleep had twitched in the bed, coming to wrap himself so he was curled tightly into Geralt’s chest. Lambert and Eskel could both see the exhaustion in Geralt’s face as the white haired alpha stroked his mates hair. They had no doubt Geralt was running himself ragged taking care of Jaskier. 

Jaskier had stirred softly, blue eyes blinking open and wincing at the bright light of the sun peeping through the curtains. “Eskel, Lambert, I didn’t know you were back. How was your trip down the path?” Jaskier smiled, voice trying to be bright but unable to hide the pain on his face as Geralt wrapped arms around his waist and helped Jaskier into a sitting position the words fell flat.

Neither Lambert or Eskel spoke for a good long time, both staring at the gaunt pale face of the omega who was usually so bright and full of life. His blue eyes seemed dimmer somehow and their were lines on his face that hadn’t been their before they had left. 

“I know I look dreadful.” Jaskier tried for a laugh but it came out forced and pained.

“Like shit.” Lambert grunted and this caused Jaskier to chuckle softly, blue eyes sparkling ever so slightly.

“How are you?” Eskel asked, concern laced in his voice.

Jaskier just shrugged in answer but the way he leaned on Geralt as if Geralt was the only thing stopping him from collapsing on the bed and curling back into sleep was answer enough. “Well enough. How was the path?”

Any other time Eskel would argue about the swift change of subject but seeing how exhausted Jaskier was stopped Eskel in his tracks. Even Lambert, someone who rarely stopped just because another person wanted him to kept silent and allowed the change of topic.

“Should have seen the faces of those villagers when we asked for baby stuff. Probably think we abducted a baby or something.” Lambert grinned and jaskier chuckled softly.

They didn’t stay long, both painfully aware of the way Jaskier seemed to grow quieter and quieter as they spoke, leaning more and more on Geralt. When they finally did leave, they both stopped outside the closed door, worry and pain aching in their hearts for their omega and their brother.

.......35 weeks pregnant......

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Triss started but Vesemir simply shook his head at the curly haired sorceress.

“Jaskier needs a bit of cheering up.” Vesemir stated bluntly.

“No, he needs bed rest and sleep.” Yennefer argued, violet eyes blazing with anger as they had been since Vesemir had made his suggestion. “He doesn’t need some ox headed Witchers storming into his rooms and moving everything around.”

“If I thought this would hurt Jaskier or the baby I wouldn’t have suggested it.” Vesemir stated, voice blunt and brokering no argument as he stared down the violet eyed sorceress who would have had every other Witcher running screaming from the room by now from her glare alone. “But Jaskier needs a distraction. It will be good for him.”

“Maybe he’s right Yenn.” Triss said, resting a gentle hand on Yennefer’s shoulder. Both sorceresses had been looking tired and beaten down these past 2 weeks. Vesemir knew the both of them had barely been sleeping, going through ever book they had on omega pregnancies trying to find a way to help Jaskier.

But then Vesemir doubted anyone in the keep was getting any sleep anymore. The atmosphere of the keep was claustrophobic, filled with anxious worried Witchers. By now half of the Witchers who had wintered here would have left but not a single one of them had shown any sign of leaving yet. Vesemir didn’t blame them. They were all anxiously waiting for Jaskier to be miraculously better.

In Vesemir’s opinion though the Witchers were deluding themselves into thinking Jaskier would be miraculously cured. He had spent to many years training boys and watching them go through the trials to still hope for the best outcome. He had seen strong children, who all believed would survive the trials die moaning and screaming. Had seen Witchers walk away from the trials with dead eyes, barely acknowledging anyone. Seen boys have all their love and curiosity in the room destroyed in the trials as pain and anguish overtook their bodies, changing them forever.

Vesemir was under no delusions. As strong as Jaskier was, as will full as the bard was, there was no guarantee. Even with Yennefer and Triss’ chaos, even if destiny herself chose to intervene, there was no guarantee that Jaskier would survive. That the baby would survive. Vesemir only hoped that destiny was kind and saved at least one of them. Which one though, Vesemir would not choose.

Not when he knew given the choice Jaskier would rather lose his life than let his baby lose theirs. Not when he knew Geralt would give anything to let Jaskier live, anything at all including Jaskier’s unborn child. The only thing Vesemir truly hoped for in all of this, the only thing he allowed himself to hope, was that destiny would not make either chose. Because if she did then he knew whoever’s choice it was would surely destroy the others heart.

No, as painful as it would be if either Jaskier died or his baby died; better it was fate that decided it. At least then neither of Geralt or jaskier would have to blame the other for what happened.

“Fine.” Yennefer finally answered to Triss’ silent pleas.

Vesemir turned to the violet eyed sorceress with a fierce expression on his face. “I wasn’t asking permission.”

Before Yennefer could say a word Vesemir turned on his heel and stalked back down the corridor to collect the Witchers needed to help complete this task.

.......

Geralt growled at the group of Witchers standing outside his and Jaskier’s rooms. Vesemir was in front, an unimpressed expression on his face at the white wolf barring his way into Jaskier’s rooms.

“Jaskier needs his rest.” Geralt growled, glaring at each Witcher in turn. Lambert and Eskel stood a little way down the corridor; expressions carefully neutral as Vesemir and Geralt faced off.

Jaskier was asleep in their room. He’d had a rough morning, waking to the pain of the baby kicking his belly then proceeding to vomit up the messily piece of cheese and bread Geralt had managed to persuade Jaskier to eat. Jaskier had looked so fucking grateful when Geralt suggested getting a few more hours sleep, it broke Geralt’s fucking heart to watch as Jaskier had curled tightly under the blankets and furs, slowly drifting off into sleep.

“Geralt, this will be good for him.” Vesemir stated, voice firm but Geralt didn’t back down, only growled louder.

“What’s good for him is rest.” Geralt growled right back.

Vesemir went to say something but the soft voice of Jaskier from the bed had Vesemir stop and Geralt’s anger burn brighter than anything. “Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice was soft and Geralt turned with a heavy heart to watch as Jaskier turned in the bed, blue eyes blinking in confusion at the Witchers crowding outside his room. “What?”

Jaskier moved his arms to get himself sat up. Geralt, seeing the minute tremble as Jaskier put his weight on his arms, was at his mates side in a moment. Jaskier smiled in thanks as Geralt carefully wrapped a arm around Jaskier’s waist to help him into a seated position.

“Leave.” Geralt growled, glare directed at the Witchers who had woken his mate from much needed sleep.

Vesemir though ignored him, stepping in the room and leaving Geralt to growl in anger. Jaskier took Geralt’s hand, rubbing gentle circles there to calm Geralt’s anger as Vesemir started to speak.

“We have a surprise for you, if you’d like it?” Jaskier seemed to pick up a bit at that, sitting a little straighter in the bed but not stopping his gentle circling of Geralt’s palm.

“A surprise?” Vesemir grunted, motioning for Lambert and Eskel to come into the room. The two did, Lambert wearing a self-satisfied smirk on his face which had Geralt bristling with new found rage, and Eskel smiling a greeting at Jaskier. “It’s ok dear heart.” Jaskier murmured, moving his head to gently rub his face against Geralt’s neck.

“Close your eyes bard, don’t want to ruin it.” Lambert growled, Jaskier giggled at that, doing as he bid as Geralt glared at Vesemir with barely contained anger.

...............

Jaskier could feel the anger falling off Geralt in waves and gently brought his head to bury into Geralt’s neck. Scenting Geralt’s scent gland softly, he felt his alpha relax minutely into Jaskier’s side. He could hear the sound of wood scraping on the floor and was half tempted to take a peek but he didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“You can look now.” Eskel said and Jaskier hummed. Geralt’s arm was around his waist, Jaskier pressed close to his alpha’s side so Jaskier had to manoeuvre a little on the bed to look at what Eskel and Lambert had brought in.

The last thing he had expected when they had said surprise was a heavy wooden, obviously hand crafted cot. Jaskier felt his breath go in a silent ‘oh’ as he looked at the wooden cot, hand coming to gently rest on his belly as he looked at it.

“Can I?” Jaskier started, gently moving Geralt’s arms from him to swing his legs over the side of the bed. His legs shook as he placed his feet on the ground and stood, almost giving way instantly but a steady weight appeared at his side. Geralt.

“Jask.” Geralt murmured into his hair, fear in his voice as Jaskier leant heavily against his side, blinking a little to clear the ringing in his head. He hated how weak he’d become, how reliant he had become on Geralt these last 2 weeks. Something as simple as getting up from the bed becoming a chore to the point Geralt had to even help him to the chamber pot in a morning, a mortifying task that had Jaskier blushing a deep shade of red. But Geralt did it all without complaint.

“I just want to see.” Jaskier whispered, knowing his voice sounded breathless. He expected Geralt to argue and Jaskier wouldn’t have argued against him if he had. Not when he knew how worried Geralt had Been ever since his collapse. Jaskier wouldn’t add that extra pain on Geralt if he could help it so he hoped Geralt wouldn’t argue and insist Jaskier go back into the bed.

“Lean on me.” Geralt murmured, hand tightening around Jaskier’s waist as he helped Jaskier walk to the wooden cot. Jaskier ignored the worried expressions on Eskel and even Lambert’s face. Ignored the look of concern in Vesemir’s eyes as Geralt helped him walk over to the cot. Their baby’s cot.

Tears burned at Jaskier’s eyes as he trailed a hand over the fine wooden calving. “Were I’d you get it?” Jaskier breathed, hands trailing over the intricately carved wooden spindles. Eskel and Lambert had brought up the supplies for the baby a few days ago and they were all safely stored in the wooden cupboards waiting their arrival, but no one had mentioned a cot.

“I made it.” Vesemir answered, voice gruff and when Jaskier looked to the older Witcher, Vesemir ducked his head a little in embarrassment.

“It’s perfect.” Jaskier answered, voice sincere as he rubbed his hand against his belly. A sharp kick to his hand had Jaskier wincing even as he chuckled softly.

“Jask?” Geralt asked, voice filled with worry as he saw Jaskier wince.

“It’s ok, just the baby.” Jaskier smiled, rubbing the place his baby had kicked with a smile on his face. “I think they like it to.” Vesemir let out an unidentifiable grunt in answer and Jaskier chuckled again, leaning heavily against Geralt as tears started to run down his face.

He could just imagine his baby, lying asleep in the little bedding, surrounded by the tiny little teddy’s and wooden toys Eskel and Lambert had bought them. Dressed in the bright coloured socks and hats the Witchers had knitted them. Wrapped in a bright coloured blanket, smiling up at the people standing around the cot. The people that wouldn’t be him, wouldn’t be the baby’s papa.

Jaskier heard Geralt swear as Jaskier’s legs buckled underneath him at the weight of his grief overcame him. His knees never touched the ground though, Geralt keeping a firm hold as he felt someone else, Eskel he was dimly aware of, help move him back to the bed. Tears ran down his face as Geralt wrapped arms around his shoulders, holding him close in a tight embrace as Jaskier cried over the knowledge that he would never see his baby in their cot. That he would never see his baby laugh or smile. Wouldn’t even know if his baby was a boy or girl. If they would be a singer or a fighter. Would never see them running the halls of Kaer Morhen, laughing and playing. Would never see his baby grow up to be a strong man or woman. 

Jaskier wasn’t a fool. He knew things weren’t set in stone. Knew that there was a chance however slim and hopeless it might seem that he would get to see all of it but right now. Surrounded by the things his family had bought, had made for his baby, Jaskier couldn’t help but feel the crushing hopelessness that he would never know his child. Never hold his child in his arms.

And it hurt. Hurt more than anything in his life ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I planned this chapter to have a lot more of a cheerful ending but the angst got ahead of me and this was written instead.
> 
> As always thank you for the reviews and kudo’s and I hope you enjoyed


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, this is a bit shorter than I originally planned but I decided I didn't want to cram to much into this chapter so hope you all enjoy :)

“Fuck, Jaskier.” Geralt felt his heart clench in fear as he held Jaskier close. His omega was curled into Geralt’s side, sobs making his shoulders shake as Jaskier kept his face buried against Geralt’s chest. And Geralt didn’t know what to do. Stroking Jaskier’s brown hair, Geralt turned amber eyes to face the others in the room.

Irrational anger flooded him as he glared at the 3 other Witchers. They had done this. Vesemir had insisted they come in here and disturb Jaskier. Jaskier who was so helpless right now. Jaskier who needed rest and quiet and calm not…not whatever it was that upset him. 

Except Geralt didn’t know what had upset his mate. Happiness and surprise had flooded from his bond with Jaskier when he saw the cot. It was the only reason Geralt hadn’t pushed Jaskier to stay in bed, it was the first time in weeks Jaskier had seemed excited about anything. But then the overwhelming feeling of grief had flooded from Jaskier as Geralt barely caught his mate before he fell to the floor.

A large sob had Geralt tightening his hold on Jaskier. Fuck, he didn’t know what to do. “Fuck, talk to me Jask. What’s wrong.

Geralt didn’t expect an answer so when Jaskier’s thin broken voice, muffled by the fact his face was buried in Geralt’s shirt, filtered in Geralt’s ears the white-haired alpha felt relief fill him. At least until he listened to what Jaskier said. 

“I’ll never see them.” Jaskier lifted tear filled eyes, bright with pain and grief as he spoke. “I’ll never meet my baby.” A sob broke from Jaskier as he dropped his head into Geralt’s chest. “I’ll never see them grow up. Fuck, Geralt…I’ll never fucking hold my child.”

And Geralt didn’t know what to say as he sat almost frozen with his arms tight around his sobbing mate. His heart clenched in shared grief at Jaskier’s words. At Jaskier’s grief over never having a chance to meet his unborn baby. Over grief that Jaskier didn’t expect to survive the birth. Of losing Geralt. Tears burned in the back of Geralt’s eyes in a way they hadn’t since he was a child, abandoned by his Mother and left alone in the world. Pain and grief filling his heart as he subconsciously tried to press Jaskier to his side as if that would save him. As if Geralt could protect his world from crumbling to ash the moment he lost Jaskier. His Jaskier. The first person since his Mother abandoning him who had shown Geralt such unconditional unreserved love. 

“Jaskier.” Geralt lifted his head, which he had buried into Jaskier’s soft brown hair, to find Vesemir kneeling in front of the sobbing omega. Eskel and Lambert where hovering behind him, concern and pain in their eyes as they stood uncertain what to do.

Jaskier didn’t move, seemed to lean further into Geralt’s side. His hands were cradled around his pregnant belly, as if he was holding his child. The child Jaskier would never hold. Emotion clogged Geralt’s throat and he dropped his head into Jaskier’s hair to stop the tears from falling.

“Jaskier, you can’t know that’s what will happen.” Vesemir’s voice was even and firm. The same voice he had used with the young Witchers when they were upset or injured. Geralt forced the tears away, hand trailing down Jaskier’s spine and rubbing a soft circle there as he lifted his head to look at Vesemir.

Vesemir wasn’t looking at Geralt, his amber eyes were staring directly at Jaskier. The older wolf was knelt in front of the omega, hands coming to gently grasp Jaskier’s in his own. Jaskier hiccoughed on a sob, lifting blue eyes turned grey from crying to look at Vesemir.

“There is nothing you can do, that any of us can do to control what will happen.” Vesemir spoke, eyes holding Jaskier’s gaze. “Whether you live or you die, whether your baby lives or dies.” Jaskier tensed, a sob racking through his whole body at Vesemir’s words. “There is nothing any of us can do to change what is going to happen. It is fates choice now.”

“I’m not strong enough.” Jaskier whispered, tears dropping down his face. “I can’t…”

“You are.” Vesemir interrupted, almost snarling the last comment. “Perhaps not physically, perhaps your body isn’t strong enough to survive this but you are not weak Jaskier.” Geralt turned eyes to Vesemir now, transfixed on the face of the old wolf. “You are the only person I have ever known, that any of us have ever known, who his strong enough to endure what was done to you. To not only endure but still hold the love in your heart to love a child that you never asked for.”

“Anyone can love a child.” Jaskier whispered.

“No they can’t.” Vesemir spoke, voice soft. “I have known Mother’s willingly give their children to the Witchers without a single thought. I have seen women leave their babies to die in a forest simply because they were not the child they wanted. And I have seen very, very few people who could love a child born of rape. I have no shame in saying were I in your place I couldn’t love that child, that I would have removed it the second I realised I was pregnant.”

“It’s just an innocent baby, it’s not their fault.” Jaskier whispered. The sobbing had subsided but he was still crying silently.

“You’re right.” Vesemir grunted, squeezing Jaskier’s hands softly. “But you are one of the few people who can truly see that, who can truly believe that. That is strength, a strength very few people possess.”

“I just want to hold my baby.” Jaskier whispered, leaning further into Geralt’s arms. Geralt felt his heart clench at those words but Vesemir didn’t flinch, simply continued to hold Jaskier’s hands in his own with a grave expression on his face.

“And I am sure you will.” Vesemir said, squeezing Jaskier’s hand reassuringly. “Whatever fate decides happens to you and your baby I have no doubt that you will hold your child, Jaskier.”

Before Geralt knew what was happening, Jaskier threw his arms around Vesemir and hugged the old Witcher as tightly as he could. Vesemir looked startled but his arms came to wrap around the omega tightly. “Thank you.” Jaskier whispered, voice pitched for only Vesemir to hear but forgetting the Witcher’s enhanced hearing allowed them all to hear the words.

Vesemir grunted in answer, awkwardly patting Jaskier’s back before Geralt wrapped a gentle arm around Jaskier’s waist and pulled his mate back to sitting next to him. Jaskier’s eyes still glistened with tears but he was no longer crying as Vesemir got to his feet, a light blush visible at the back of his neck as he turned to Eskel and Lambert behind him.

“We’ll leave you both alone.” Vesemir grunted, leading the way out of the room.

Lambert hesitated, mouth opening as if to say something but Eskel placed a hand on the younger Witcher’s shoulder, leading him away with a quiet, “Later, they need some time.”

As the door closed behind them, Geralt felt the burning in his eyes renew but this time he didn’t fight to keep them away. How could he when the tears he felt slipping past his eyes were for the man currently in his arms. The man he loved and might so soon lose.

…………

Jaskier felt the grief flood through the bond and turned in his eyes to wrap arms around Geralt but mid turn he froze. Geralt’s amber eyes were glazed with tears, tears that were now dripping down his face as Geralt kept his arms wrapped firmly around Jaskier’s waist.

“Oh Geralt, dear heart.” Jaskier whispered, heart breaking as Geralt buried his head into the crook of Jaskier’s neck, pulling Jaskier close. Jaskier let him so that he was seated on Geralt’s lap. Bringing his arms around Geralt’s neck, he gently rubbed circles on Geralt’s back.

“I can’t lose you.” Geralt whispered, his voice broken and filled with grief. Jaskier felt like his heart was shattering into a million pieces. Geralt was never broken. Geralt was a strong constant source of reassurance for Jaskier, no more so than these last few months. But now…now his mate was in floods of tears, curled around his mate and looking so small and vulnerable and in so much pain.

“You won’t lose me.” Jaskier promised, rubbing his face against Geralt’s neck and softly kissing the mating mark there.

Geralt tightened his hold around Jaskier as he shook softly. “You can’t promise that.” Geralt whispered.

“I can.” Jaskier replied. Amber pain filled eyes turned to look at him and Jaskier forced back the wave of pain filling his own chest at the sight of Geralt like this. Geralt had been strong for Jaskier all this time. It was Jaskier’s turn to be strong for his mate. “No matter what happens Geralt, you’ll always have me.”

“And if you die.” Geralt’s voice broke on the last word.

“I’ll still be with you Geralt.” Jaskier smiled softly. “I’ll never leave you even in death. I’ll be right here, always.” Jaskier gently rested his hand on Geralt’s chest above his heart. Geralt snorted in answer, the laughter wet sounding even as the tears still fell but a hesitant smile appeared on Geralt’s lips. “I am a poet Geralt and I have always believed love to be eternal, no matter what.”

“I love you.” Geralt whispered.

“And I may dear, will always love you.” Jaskier promised.

………..

That night both slept more soundly than they had in weeks. Entwined in each other’s arms, Geralt’s head rested on Jaskier’s chest. Hands entwined above Jaskier’s pregnant belly, soft smiles on both of their faces as the basked in the company of each other, knowing that whatever face decided they would never truly be alone. That they would always have each other, bound in eternal love.


	19. Chapter 19

........37 weeks pregnant........

“What’s wrong?” Triss’ voice startled Jaskier from where he’d been staring at his the blanke he was winding around his hands.

“Hmm?” Jaskier glanced up from the armchair Geralt had reluctantly helped him into that morning before going to train Ciri. Triss was looking at him with worry clear in her eyes, Yennefer to having moved her gaze from the book she was reading to frown at him. “I’m fine.” Jaskier smiled but his hands, restlessly picking at the blanket told otherwise.

“I can get Geralt.” Triss said, gently taking the blanket from Jaskier’s hands. It was dark blue, bought specifically for the baby. His baby would be swaddled in this blanket, the soft plush fabric against it’s smooth skin. Jaskier rang his hands in his lap, the need to do something filling him.

“No.” Jaskier said, shaking himself from his restless thoughts. “Geralt needs this time with Ciri.” Triss frowned at him before slowly nodding, moving to place the blanket back in the drawers.

Geralt had been reluctant that morning to leave Jaskier alone, or rather with Yennefer and Triss as Jaskier hadn’t been alone since his collapse weeks ago. The past few days Jaskier had been doing a lot better. Not brilliant by any stretch, but better. He could keep his food down now, though the nausea still plagued him enough for Jaskier to be a bit hesitant about eating. And he’d been a bit more active, alert when Witchers, Ciri or Yennefer and Triss visited. He was still exhausted, spending most of his days napping between visitors. But he could at least stay up long enough for his visitors to leave and he wasn’t bone weary like he had been either. Rather a restless energy was rushing through him, a need to do something...anything.

As evident by the baby clothes, items and blankets strewn across the room. When he’d immediately stood up, pulling out the blankets and clothing when Geralt had left with Ciri for morning training; Triss had been understandably alarmed. Forcing Jaskier to sit back down and allowing him to direct her in what he wanted doing. Yennefer, surprisingly hadn’t been overly bothered by Jaskier’s sudden need to re-organise everything for his baby. No, she’d just smirked as she sat on the only other free chair and started reading a book.

Jaskier’s hands came to rest against his belly, feeling the tiny baby shifting slightly, thankful off his bladder which the little one had spent the whole night kicking. A small smile spread across Jaskier’s face as the sudden need to stand up overtook him.

“Jask. Sit down.” Triss startled as she grabbed his elbow, steadying Jaskier’s unsteady weight. Even if he’d been up full strength he doubted the baby weight, making his sense of gravity tip alarmingly forward, would let him keep his balance for more than a few seconds.

A wave of dizziness clouded Jaskier’s vision at the speed in which he had stood and it was the only reason Triss managed to get him back to seated. “That’s it, I’m getting Geralt.” Triss stated, placing her hands on her hips as if daring Jaskier to argue.

“No, please. I’m fine.” Jaskier startled. Geralt needed this time with Ciri. After his mates tears confession of fear of losing Jaskier, Jaskier had been filled with worry for him. Geralt never let on but the white haired feared Witcher warlord was really a sweet kind loving person. No one ever saw it because Geralt hid it all under stoic sarcasm and biting anger, even Jaskier had taken years to understand Geralt’s way of showing his feelings. The lingering touches, the fear in his amber eyes when Jaskier launched himself into danger, the biting words meant to wound and push away, the silent hums and ducks of head when Jaskier said something sweet and Geralt didn’t know how to respond. They were Geralt’s way of showing his affection, his love. To see Geralt so...so emotional, to see him crying. It had broken Jaskier’s heart.

It was why he’d insisted Geralt spend time with Ciri. Geralt may be a Witchers but it was obvious to them all that Geralt was pushing his limits, even more obvious after listening to his tears confession. The time away from Jaskier, the time spent with his pup, training and letting his frustrations and anger out on the training grounds was what Geralt needed.

Geralt had argued, of course he had, but with Jaskier’s if not brilliant but improved condition and Jaskier’s own assurances that he would be fine. Coupled with Yenenfer and Triss’ promise to keep get him if anything happened and Ciri’s hopeful gaze; Geralt had relented. So no, Jaskier couldn’t let Geralt come running back here. He couldn’t ruin what was meant to be a good distraction for his mate. Even his veins burnt with the need to do something.

“Then if I can’t get Geralt, tell us what’s wrong.” Triss stated, eyes glaring at Jaskier and making it clear if Jaskier left even the slightest bit of truth out she was going to get Geralt.

Jaskier sighed, dropping his hands against his belly and immediately tapping against it for something to do. “I’m just restless.” Jaskier sighed. Triss raised and eyebrow in disbelief and Jaskier just shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what’s wrong, I just need...I don’t know.”

Yennefer chose that moment to place her book on the small table, letting out a small sigh. Jaskier and Triss turned to her and she looked at the two with barley concealed annoyance. “You really don’t know what’s wrong.” She stated.

“Do I look like I know what’s wrong, what I’m doing here?” Jaskier said, motioning to the chaos of baby clothes and items strewn across every available surface.

“You don’t recognise the feeling?” Yennefer pushed and Jaskier let out a huff of annoyance.

“No Yennefer, I’ve never had a tiny baby growing inside me before so of course I bloody well don’t recognise the feeling.” Jaskier all but shouted and Yennefer just rolled her eyes in disbelief.

“Unbelievable.” The violet eyed sorceress stood up and took one of the blankets from the cupboard and threw it at Jaskier. Jaskier grabbed it instantly, winding the soft fabric in his hands and smiling softly. His baby’s blanket. “You want to nest.”

“I...what?” Jaskier looked at Yennefer in surprise and Yennefer looked like she was ready to slap her palm against her hand at the words. But now she said those words, he started to recognise the feeling. It wasn’t the need to build a nest to get through his heat, something to comfort him while he fell into pleasurable oblivion for he and his mate to share. It was slightly different. A need to nest but to make something comfortable for his baby, somewhere safe and warm and soft for the tiny bundle growing inside him. Fuck, he really did need to.

“I need to nest.” Jaskier repeated Yennefer’s words and the sorceress rolled her eyes as if to say finally. 

“No, no you need to rest.” Triss startled, grabbing Jaskier’s arm as the omega once more got to his feet. Ignoring the feeling of dizziness this time, Jaskier forced himself to stay seated.

“But...”. Jaskier started but Yennefer broke him off with a glare, placing a hand on his arm and helping Triss push him back into the comfy seat.

“Triss is right, you need to rest. You can’t go jumping around all day it’s not good for you. Or the baby.” Those last words had Jaskier slumping forward, hands resting against his baby as a hint of despair ran through him. He needed to build his baby a safe place to come into this world, a safe soft warm place where they would be protected in his arms. Except he couldn’t do that because he wasn’t strong enough. Tears of frustration burned at his eyes.

“None of that.” Triss said, handing Jaskier a handkerchief and letting him wipe his eyes with it. “We never said you can’t nest you just need to be careful doing it. We can do it right here.”

“No on the bed.” Jaskier immediately said, ducking his head a little in embarrassment. Nesting was an intimate process for an omega, something he rarely let even Geralt share in though he was more than happy to let his mate hold him tight in his arms in the nest. “I mean...I know it’d be better but it’ll take up the hole thing and...”

“Then how about the floor.” Triss said with a grin, not phased in the slightest. “We can make it all soft and warm, would that be ok?”

“Yes.” Jaskier said, rubbing gently against his swollen belly.

“Excellent, I’ll go and get a few things and we can start.” Triss grinned, jumping to her feet and moving out of the room.

As soon as the door thudded closed, Jaskier went to get to his feet but Yennefer sent him a glare as she picked up her book once more. “Don’t even think about moving from there or I’ll tie you down and you can tell Geralt why.”

A little sulkily Jaskier dropped back into the chair and wrapped his arms around his pregnant belly.

........

“Fuck.” Lambert cursed as he saw Merigold stalking down the hallway, heading straight in their direction. Aidan glanced in the direction Lambert was looking and smirked.

“Go for it, I’ll watch.” Aidan grinned, earning him a growl from Lambert. The 2 Witchers were sat with Gwent cards in front of them but the card game stopped as Merigold stalked right over to them, standing at the table with her hands on her hips.

“I have a job for you. Both of you.” Merigold stated, eyes blazing.

“What run out of Witchers willing to do your bidding today Merigold.” Lambert grinned, leaning back against the chair. Aidan snorted into his hand, earning him a glare from Merigold. The sorceress was a fire cracker, and right now all her energy was focused on the 2 Witchers in front of her. Never a good sign.

“It’s for Jaskier.” And just like that any arguments Lambert had prepared in readiness and refusal, died on his lips.

“What’s wrong?” Aidan asked, concern in his amber eyes that was never there for anyone but Jaskier and on occasion (though Aidan would never admit it and lambert would certainly never fucking admit to seeing it) Lambert.

“He’s fine.” Triss assured them quickly. “He just needs to nest.”

“Nest.” Lambert grunted. “Fuck no, last time that bastard nested he stole of the good blankets.” Even as Lambert protested, he was already planning how to break into every Witchers rooms and steal every fur and blanket he found.

“Unlucky for you.” Triss retorted. “If you can bring up a few mattresses to his and Geralt’s rooms that would be brilliant.” And before Lambert and Aidan could blink the fiery beta was stalking back down the hall.

‘She’s probably looking for some other unlucky soul to order about.” Aidan shuddered, smirking over at Lambert as they heard the distinct sound of Triss’ voice yelling at a further unsuspecting Witcher.

“Lamber snorted, standing and slapping Aidan on the back. “Call it a draw?” He nodded to the gwent game left unfinished.

“Only because you were losing.” Aidan grinned and ducked from the swat amid at his head. Fucking cats.

..........

Geralt and Ciri stared in confusion as they passed what use be 30 odd Witchers all walking up or past them in the corridor. Those heading up the corridor were carrying arms full of furs and blankets. Geralt even saw fucking Aidan carrying an arm full of cushions, Lamber’s voice echoing up ahead.

Pushing past the Witchers, Geralt felt worry and anger build in him as he saw the open door to his and Jaskier’s rooms. These bastards were shouting and swearing and laughing, all making a fucking racket as they walked past Jaskier. Jaskier who was pregnant and in desperate need of rest and sleep.

Geralt stalked into his rooms, hand going to the door and about to slam it in the Witchers faces when he caught sight of his omega. A bright vibrant smile on his face, laughing and more animated than he had been in weeks. Surrounded by varieties of blankets and furs, sitting on what looked to be 4 mattresses (2 pressed together and another 2 piled on top of the others). Geralt froze in shock, staring at Jaskier who had turned to grin bright at him from where he was knelt, fussily moving blankets and cushions around the mattress.

Ciri ducked past Geralt’s arm barring the entrance and grinned brightly, launching herself onto the mattress and wrapping her arms around Jaskier. Jaskier laughed, long and loud and vibrant. Geralt watched as the two embraced, Ciri burying her head into Jaskier’s scent gland in a way she had always done when she was a small child looking for comfort.

“You’re building a nest for the baby.” Ciri grinned as she looked at Ciri, keeping herself pressed tightly to Jaskier’s side.

“We are.” Jaskier replied, smiling shyly at Geralt. “Though I think we have more than enough now.” Jaskier laughed, Eskel who had appeared in the doorway fucking blushing as he held more furs in his arms. “Can’t steal all of it now can we?”

Eskel grunted, ducking his head a little. “I’ll get them all to back off.”

“Don’t be to harsh.” Jaskier smiled brightly. “You all just want to help and I really do appreciate it. More than anything.” And with that statement, which had Eskel blushing even more the scarred Witcher left the doorway with his armful of furs.

“Come on Ciri, you can help me get the finishing touches sorted.” Jaskier smiled. Ciri grinned brightly, helping to push the cushions against the wall so they created a cushion like chair for Jaskier to lean against.

Yennefer had her nose in her book but Geralt could see from here her eyes weren’t moving over the pages and there was a light smile on her face. Triss was hovering close, looking like she desperately wanted to help but not making a move to do so. Geralt gently closed the door, leaning himself against the wooden frame as he watched Jaskier and Ciri work.

Omega nests were precious things. Created for comfort and family. Jaskier had always insisted he didn’t need help making his nest, always protective whenever Geralt tried to do anything to help, even as he dragged Geralt readily into the nest when it was all finished. The only person allowed into the nest without being asked, the only person allowed to help Jaskier with creating his safe place, was Ciri. Ciri was, for all intents and purposes though Jaskier would never try to replace Ciri’s parents or Grandparents, Jaskier’s child. She was all their child but Jaskier was her omega parent. And because of that she had free access into Jaskier’s nest whenever she wished. 

Geralt felt his heart ache as he imagined the baby held in Jaskier’s arms, Jaskier cradling them tightly to his chest surrounded by his lovingly created nest. Or Jaskier’s child helping Jaskier build the nest, curled tight to Jaskier’s side as Jaskier played his lute or told them stories. Except that might not happen. Jaskier might not survive for it to happen. The baby might not.

As if hearing his thoughts, Jaskier lifted his head to look at Geralt, offering his alpha a small smile. “Will you have the baby here?” Ciri asked. She was pressed to Jaskier’s side, Jaskier resting against the cushions with a content smile on his face, free hand resting against his belly.

“Yes.” Jaskier smiled. geralt glanced at Yennefer and Triss but when neither sorceress argued against it Geralt hummed in agreement. Jaskier seemed to smile brighter before a jaw cracking yawn left him. Jaskier laughed, resting heavily against the cushions as he closed his eyes a little. “Sorry, I think the days catching up on me.”

“You should rest.” Ciri said, kissing Jaskier on the cheek before hesitating and rubbing a hand against the bump. Jaskier let out a little ‘oh’ and Ciri’s face split into an amazed smile. The baby must have kicked her hand. “They’ll love your nest.” Ciri said, taking Jaskier’s hand and squeezing it softly before climbing to her feet.

Yennefer and Triss stood, both smiling at Jaskier who waved his goodbye before exiting the room. As the door shut with a soft click, Jaskier turned bright blue eyes to Geralt and beckoned him over. “Hold me?”

Geralt didn’t need to be told twice, shrugging out his jerkin (glad Ciri had persuaded him to go to the hot springs before coming back to his rooms so he didn’t have to leave Jaskier again) and lowering himself onto the mattress. Jaskier instantly pressed close to him, resting his head against Geralt’s chest and seeming to melt as Geralt leant against the soft cushions.

He thought the Witchers might have brought the softest comfiest mattresses up here as he couldn’t feel a hint of the stone floor underneath. The furs covering the mattress where soft under his fingers and he could smell the lingering scent of the Witchers in all of the items, himself included. Geralt chuckled, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s head. Jaskier always had a habit of stealing clothes from all of his family and hiding them in his nests, it stood to reason Jaskier unable to do it himself that the Witchers had done it for him.

“Primrose.” Jaskier murmured against Geralt’s chest, taking Geralt’s hand in his and placing it over his stomach. “If it’s a girl.” Jaskier’s blue eyes peered up at Geralt as if searching for confirmation. Geralt found himself humming and Jaskier blushing a little. “I always liked yellow flowers and I think Primroses are beautiful.”

“And if it’s a boy.” Geralt murmured, gently stroking his free hand against Jaskier’s shoulder. 

Jaskier ducked his head with a blush before answering. “Ren, it’s a lotus flower.” Jaskier blushed again and chuckling. “I know it’s corny to name my baby after flowers but...”

Geralt pressed his mouth against Jaskier’s lips, kissing his mate chastely. Jaskier melted into the touch, hand squeezing Geralt’s softly over his pregnant belly. “I think they’re perfect.” Geralt murmured against Jaskier’s lips.

Jaskier grinned, launching himself further into the kiss and deepening it fully. Geralt hummed against Jaskier’s, arms wrapping around him in a sweet embrace.

......38 weeks pregnant......

Jaskier woke with a aching pain across his back and belly. He blinked the sleep from his eye, rubbing at the spot that had been hurting him on and off since he’d fallen asleep that night. Glancing t the side Jaskier smiled, seeing Geralt still asleep on the bed. Geralt shifted a little as Jaskier gently moved himself from Geralt’s warm eyes. His amber eyes blinked open and Jaskier smiled, kissing him gently.

“Baby’s on my bladder again, I’ll be right back.” Geralt hummed, amber eyes sparking as he watched Jaskier swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

As Jaskier grabbed hold of the bed railing to make to stand, a blinding pain filled his whole abdomen. He let out a pain groan, bending over his protruding belly as tears burnt at his eyes. Geralt was at his side, grabbing hold of Jaskier’s hand, eyes filled with worry as Jaskier panted through the contraction.

“Jaskier?” Geralt growled, voice rough from sleep and worry.

Jaskier looked at him as the contraction finished, pained lines across his face even as his face came out in a hesitant fear-filled smile. “I...I think the baby’s coming.”

Jaskier swore he’d never seen anyone’s face drain of colour as fast as Geralt’s did at those words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still torn about whether Jaskier’s baby should be a boy or a girl.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed and thank you for reading :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: descriptions of difficult birth here. 
> 
> Also, I have no idea what it’s like to actually give birth; everything I know is from the internet and watching too many episodes of Call the Midwife so if anything is incorrect sorry in advance.

The minute the words came out of Jaskier’s mouth, Geralt was sure he’d stopped breathing. Shock, worry, fear, all these emotions ran rampart in his mind as he stared at his mate. But even as these emotions floored him, he saw the apprehension in Jaskier’s bright blue eyes. Apprehension and a mirroring of Geralt’s own fear. But not just that. In Jaskier’s bright blue emotion-filled eyes, there was joy. Absolute utter joy at the thought of his baby coming into this world.

And just like that Geralt’s trance was broken. the baby was coming. Their baby was coming.

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice was soft, hands cradling his tony bump as he looked at Geralt who blinked at his mate in a state of wonderment and fear. This was happening, this was really happening. “Maybe you should get Yennefer and Triss.”

Geralt froze, worry overfilling him at Jaskier’s words. Yes, they needed Yenn and Triss here. They were the only two in the keep who had any idea how to deliver the baby. The only people with a chance of saving Jaskier. Except...except Geralt didn’t want to leave his omega. Not when Jaskier was so utterly vulnerable.

“Geralt, dear heart. I’ll be fine.” Jaskier smiled, face soft as he took Geralt’s hand in his and squeezed softly.

“I love you.” Geralt growled, dropping his head to kiss Jaskier as tenderly as he could.

“I love you too.” Jaskier murmured into Geralt’s lips, running a hand through Geralt’s hair before letting him go. “Now go before I deliver this baby on my own.” The words were only a joke but they sent a spear of fear through Geralt that had him all but launching himself out of their rooms.

It was still a few hours until dawn, the corridors clear of all Witchers as they slept through the night. But as Geralt ran through the halls, he heard the telltale sounds of Witcher’s footsteps in their rooms. As he got to Yennefer’s door a few Witcher’s were at their own doors.

Gerd, Aubrey and Aukes were already half way out of the corridor, dressed in breeches and shirtless with their swords in hands. “What’s going on?” Geralt heard Aukes shout but he wasn’t listening, still banging manically at Yennefer’s door.

The sources opened, violet eyes looking at him with an unamused frown. She was dressed in a dark black dress, which was obviously not what she slept in, and her black hair was as impeccable as ever. Geralt growled low and angry at the thought she’d wasted time getting changed before answering the door. Every second away from Jaskier made Geralt’s heart clench in fear. What if something happened and there wasn’t anyone there? What if Jaskier died? What if the baby died? Fuck, Geralt shouldn’t have left him alone. He should be with his mate.

“Geralt, what’s wrong?” Yennefer’s voice was stern but Geralt had known Yenn long enough to hear the undercurrent of worry in her voice. “Are Jaskier and the baby ok?” Yennefer asked, fear in her voice.

“Jask...he’s...fuck the baby’s coming Yenn.” Geralt snarled, Adrenalin flooding him as he said that.

“The baby?”” Yennefer breathed, wonder in her tone before she seemed to shake herself and look at him with piercing almost businesslike violet eyes. “Go and keep an eye on Jaskier, make sure he doesn’t do anything more stupid than usual before me and Triss get there.” Yennefer, glancing over Geralt’s shoulder and seeing the Witchers crowding behind Geralt, glared at them. “And someone bring clean water and sheets up to Jaskier’s room.” There was some commotion behind Geralt as the Witchers ran to do what Yennefer had told them. Yennefer, eyes turning kind placed a hand on Geralt’s elbow and squeezed softly. ‘They’ll both be ok Geralt.”

Geralt didn’t answer, only dropping his head and glaring at his feet. Yennefer couldn’t know that. None of them could know.

..........

Jaskier paced the floor of his and Geralt’s bedroom, heart hammering against his chest as fear flooded him. He was having a baby. A real life baby was coming out of him. Fuck, he didn’t think he could do this. A pain made itself known across Jaskier’s back and stomach. He groaned, wrapping his arms around his pregnant belly as he panted through the contraction, the feeling leaving him breathless.

All but collapsing onto the mattress, Jaskier could feel tears stinging at his eyes. He was so scared. Terrified. And so so tired and the labour hadn’t even started properly yet. Jaskier knew the labour could take hours, he couldn’t do this for hours. He wasn’t strong enough.

Jaskier bent his head over his belly, cradling his stomach as he cried. He wasn’t going to survive this. He knew that with a sudden certain clarity as he sobbed, tears streaming down his face. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live. Wanted to watch his tiny baby grow up, wanted to feel them in his arms, wanted to listen to them talking for the first time, wanted to hold them while they cried, wanted to sing them little lullabies, wanted to be there when they laughed and danced. He wanted to love them.

Jaskier was suddenly aware of Geralt beside him. His alpha wrapped solid warm arms around him and Jaskier collapsed into Geralt’s chest, needing the comfort only Geralt could bring. Geralt, fuck what would Geralt do when he lost Jaskier. Jaskier knew, of course he did, just like he knew Geralt. Geralt would repress. The ridiculous infuriating alpha would repress every emotion he felt, pretend he was ok, keep going until he either finally collapsed and broke from the loss or did something foolish and got itself killed.

“Don’t die.” Jaskier found himself begging into Geralt’s chest.

“What?” Geralt looked at Jaskier, a startled expression on his face that might have made Jaskier laugh under different circumstances.

“Whatever happens.” Jaskier said, voice firm and even despite the overwhelming emotion filling him. “Don’t give up. Don’t get yourself killed. You have to live. For Ciri. For the baby. For the Witchers and Triss and Yenn...For me. Promise me. Promise me you’ll live.”

Jaskier turned tear filled blue eyes on Geralt and Geralt met his with alarmed amber ones. “I promise.” Geralt said as relief flooded Jaskier. “As long as you promise me you won’t give up. You fight to survive this Jaskier with everything you have.”

Jaskier looked at Geralt, hands cradling his stomach as he nodded his agreement. Geralt was right. He had to fight to live. “I promise.”

......45 minutes later......

Yennefer and Triss walked into Jaskier and Geralt’s rooms to find Jaskier and Geralt sitting on the bed. Jaskier was nearly in Geralt’s lap, head resting against Geralt’s chest as Geralt gently rocked his mate in his arms. Yennefer and Triss were holding the supplies the Witchers had put outside Jaskier and Geralt’s rooms.

Buckets filled with water and clean sheets as requested. When Yennefer had gotten there, followed closely by Triss who had taken a moment to dress before leaving her rooms, Eskel was standing outside the room. His face had been filled with apprehension as he looked between the sheets and the door, as if debating whether he should go inside or not.

Yennefer, taking pity on the Witcher had told him to head down to the Great hall and keep the other Witchers away from the rooms. They needed privacy. Jaskier didn’t need a hundred concerned Witchers barging into his rooms trying to see how he was as he was trying to give birth.

Yennefer carefully laid out the clean sheets over Jaskier’s nests to preserve the mattresses and furs from the birthing process. She was silently aware of Triss going over to check on Jaskier but her own mind was elsewhere. Elsewhere with a baby of her own, in a dream that would never happen. She could imagine it’s tiny little fingers and toes, little mouth turned in a smile towards her Mother.

A tear escaped Yennefer at the thought of her loss but she stubbornly wiped it away. She couldn’t concentrate on what she had lost. Not when she had gained more than she ever thought possible. A family, a daughter of her own. Things she never thought possible. And now Jaskier was giving them all an extra family member. A tiny little baby that, while not Yennefer’s own child, she would love as no less. No, she wouldn’t concentrate on her loss, not when she had gained so much.

.......

“When did the contraptions start?” Triss asked, trying to keep her voice cheery even as she felt worry fill her. Jaskier was pale, tear tracks along his face. He wasn’t healthy enough to give birth. To thin and already looking exhausted and he hadn’t even truly started yet.

“An hour ago.” Geralt growled, arms tightening around Jaskier. The usually stoic silent Witcher had his emotions clear on his face; as they always were when around Jaskier or Ciri.

“How far apart?” Triss asked.

As if to answer her question, a contraption wracked through Jaskier then. the omega groaned in pain, hands wrapping around his belly as he curled forwards. Geralt’s eyes flashed in fear as he wrapped arms around Jaskier and pulled him close. Triss pushed aside her own emotions, knowing if she let the fear and worry of losing Jaskier overrun her now then she wouldn’t be able to push them aside. No, Jaskier needed her clear headed.

Yennefer appeared at her elbow, body tense as she took hold of Triss’ hand and squeezed softly. Triss felt herself breathe a little easier. She wasn’t alone in this. She and Yennefer would get Jaskier through it and they would make sure he survived it. Triss wouldn’t allow herself to think of anything but.

......30 minutes later ...........

“We’re still a little way off yet.” Triss smiled at Jaskier. Jaskier felt himself slump against Geralt’s back as the sorceress got to her feet. He was resting on the bed, Geralt a solid weight behind him as he got his breath back from the last contraction. His whole body felt like one continuous ache. “Try and get some sleep.”

“Easier...said...than done...” Jaskier panted even as he slumped against Geralt’s chest. Geralt’s arms were a warm and solid weight that had Jaskier melting against him instantly. 

“Try, you’ll need your strength in the next few hours.” Yennefer spoke. Geralt didn’t say a word, simply wrapped his hands in Jaskier’s over Jaskier’s belly, gently stroking circles in them.

“Rest.” Geralt hummed, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s head. Jaskier hummed in response, already feeling his eyes fall closed as he relaxed fully into Geralt’s hold.

...........2 hours later.........

Geralt felt his heart clench every time Jaskier woke because of a contraction. He felt useless as Jaskier groaned in pain, hands wrapped in Geralt’s clenching hard as the contraction ran through him, whole body tense. The minute it stopped, Jaskier would sag against him again, breathing ragged as he tried to get his breathing under control.

Every time Geralt gently tried to coax Jaskier back to sleep, knowing his mate needed the rest. Jaskier would hum in answer, too tired to do much else before slumping against Geralt’s chest and falling into a restless sleep. Only for it all to be repeated again 15 minutes later when the next contraction hit.

“Can’t you do something for the pain?” Geralt said, voice strained as he held Jaskier close.

Yennefer shook her head. “Not without hurting the baby.” Geralt growled, pulling Jaskier closer again. 

“Is there anything we can do?” Geralt was aware his voice cracked on the question but not caring as worry and pain filled him. 

“I’m sorry Geralt. This is Jaskier’s battle. We can’t do much else but coach him through it.” At Triss’ words Geralt felt more useless than he had ever been in his entire life.

........2 hours later........

“Do you still want to give birth in your nest?” Yennefer asked from where she was sitting at the bed.

Jaskier hummed, blinking sluggishly at her a few times. He wanted to have his baby in the nest. Wanted his baby to have the comfort and warmth of the nest Jaskier had built specifically for his tiny baby. But the thought of leaving the bed now, wrapped as he was in Geralt’s arms was just...fuck he didn’t think he could.

Another contraction rocked through him, the worst yet and jaskier found himself sobbing as he curled inwards against the pain. He could feel Geralt tense behind him, kissing his hair softly, pushing comfort through the bond. When it finally ended, Jaskier collapsed against Geralt, crying silently. He couldn’t take this much longer. it hurt. It hurt too much.

The contractions were now 5 minutes apart and Jaskier knew it wouldn’t be long now. Fuck, he just hoped it went quickly. As the hours dwindled by he could feel his energy slacking even more and more. Even the rest didn’t help, Jaskier only just falling asleep before the next contraction hit leaving him panting and breathless and to do it all over again.

“Come on then, we’ll get you on the bed and ready.” Jaskier hummed, letting Geralt push him towards the end of the bed. “We’re going to have to take off your breeches.” Triss said, hands coming to pull them down.

To breathless after the last contraption to speak Jaskier just nodded. Again, Geralt took most of his weight as Triss gently pulled the breeches down. Jaskier might have been embarrassed, sitting on the edge of the bed, cradled in Geralt’s strong arms, and naked save for the chemise he had worn to ed that night but he was honestly to tired to care. At least it was one of Geralt’s and long enough to at least let him have a semblance of dignity, a small part of Jaskier’s brain optioned out.

Geralt moved to Jaskier’s right side, Yennefer coming to his left as Jaskier got to his feet. It was only Yennefer and Geralt both grabbing hold of him from either side that stopped him from falling over completely.

And then something wet and warm splashed down Jaskier’s thighs. He felt himself flush in embarrassment, even as his legs threatened to give out. “Fuck, Triss. There’s blood. Fuck.” Geralt’s voice appeared and jaskier looked down, his foggy mind barely registering the pool of pink tinged water under his feet.

“Get him to the nest.” Triss directed and then they were moving. Jaskier leaned heavily against Geralt as he and Yennefer guided Jaskier to the nest. When he was settled on the plush mattress, back rested against the warm fluffy pillows Jaksier felt himself relax. This was a safe place. For him and his baby.

Triss dropped to her knees at Jaskier’s legs, gently pushing them so Jaskier’s feet were resting on the mattress. Groaning with the effort, Jaskier did as directed and found his head dropping against the cushions and Triss looked at the source of the blood.

He felt her poking at something...odd...something that hadn’t been there before. He distantly remembered reading up on male omega’s labour in preparation from before and he remembered the part that said a male omega’s birthing channel only appeared towards the end of labour, just before the baby was delivered. A tiny slit just underneath his penis, acting as a way for the baby to exit. Feeling Triss’ fingers push at the newly appeared entrance he couldn’t help the fear drag through him.

Don’t get him wrong, he was glad the baby wasn’t coming out the way the same way it had been created but...that didn’t seem like a large enough gap for the baby to come out of. Geralt took hold of Jaskier’s hand as another contraption hit him. Jaskier gasping, legs collapsing onto the mattress as he panted through the pain.

Fuck, it wouldn’t be long now. The baby was going to be here soon. Fuck.

............

When Geralt had seen the blood that came out of Jaskier he had let fear clench him. Even hearing Triss’ reassurances that it was completely normal, that it was just a sign of the birthing channel opening up did nothing to comfort him. Jaskier shouldn’t be losing blood. Jaskier shouldn’t be in the pain that he was in. Fuck, none of this should be happening.

Geralt glanced at where Triss was kneeling next to Jaskier, worry in her brown eyes even as she smiled happily at Jaskier. Jaskier himself looked exhausted. Pain was written across his face as he panted through his latest contractions. Triss had said it wouldn’t be much longer until the baby was here.

Fuck. 

“Geralt,” Yennefer held him in place with her piercing violet eyes. “You’re the only one who can get Jaskier through this.” Yennefer’s tone was firm and Geralt felt his heart sink at those words. he couldn’t get jaskier through this. Wasn’t he the reason this was happened, Jaskier was only pregnant because Geralt hadn’t been able to protect him. “Geralt, Jaskier needs you.”

“How the fuck can I help him?” Geralt growled, anger at own inability to stop Jaskier’s suffering filling him. He could feel the phantom licks of pan through the bond, could feel Jaskier’s bone weary exhaustion as he fought to get through the labour. To deliver his baby. 

Yennefer, never phased by Geralt’s anger just glared at him, violet eyes fierce as she spoke. “Keep him lucid. Talk him through having the baby. It won’t be long now and when the baby starts to come Jaskier has to be awake for it.”

“Is he going to survive this Yenn?” Geralt asked, voice small and quiet as he looked at Yennefer.

Yennefer’s eyes dropped, the fierce bravado she’d been showing since this all started disappearing for a split second and showing the fear and worry she was feeling. “I don’t know Geralt. I don’t know.”

Geralt didn’t respond. He’d already known that answer but somehow hearing Yennefer say those words made it all so much worse. “Don’t think about it Geralt, he needs you.” Yennefer whispered, squeezing his shoulder.

Geralt grunted and walked over to where Jaskier was sitting. Jaskier perk up a little when seeing Geralt, offering his mate a smile. Geralt forced away the fear and anger and doubt as he returned Jaskier’s smile and settled himself into the nest.

The nest was soft and warm under his fingers, the scent of Jaskier filling it. Honey and camomile, and the slightest hint of milk underneath it. The scent of Jaskier and his baby. Geralt’s heart filled with warmth at the thought as he gently took Jaskier in his arms.

jaskier came willingly, body limp and leant as Geralt arranged their bodies so he was resting against the wall of cushions, Jaskier settled against his chest. “Lean on me.” Geralt whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Jaskier’s temple. “Let me help you through this.” Jaskier looked at him with bright blue eyes, a watery smile on his face as he did exactly that.

Geralt felt the fear and worry relax as he held Jaskier in his arms, offering his mate his own strength. Even as he sat their with Jaskier pressed solidly against him, Geralt knew it was only going to get worse.

.........1 hour later........

Jaskier screamed as the next contraction came, sweat dripping down his face to mix with the tears. Geralt’s arms wrapped solidly around him as he held Jaskier close. The contraction seemed to go on an age and when it finally ended Jaskier collapsed against Geralt, utterly exhausted.

Triss dropped to her knees to look at the birthing entrance. Her fingers prodded at the entrance but Jaskier was too exhausted to think about the strange sensation anymore. When she was done, her face was set in a determined line. “The baby’s come Jask. When you need to push tell us.”

Yennefer dropped to her knees next to Triss, violet eyes determined. Geralt pressed a kiss against Jaskier’s temple. “Let me take your weight.” Geralt murmured, gently hooking Jaskier’s legs around his own. Jaskier let him, too exhausted to think straight as the next contraction rocked through him.

He sobbed as the pain ratcheted through him, the baby seeming to shift inside him. Fuck, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. “You can.” Geralt whispered as if hearing Jaskier’s thoughts.

Jaskier didn’t reply, too tired to even try as he let his weight fall against Geralt. Geralt didn’t say a word as he kept Jaskier held in his arms, his legs holding Jaskier’s own up ready for the birth. “Not too long now Jask.” Triss said as she once more probed at his entrance. “You need to push yet?” Jaskier nodded his head and Triss smiled. “On the next contraction, push as hard as you can.”

When the next contraction hit, Jaskier did as Triss said. Pushing as hard as he could, Jaskier groaned through it. “That’s it Jask, your doing brilliant.” Triss smiled as Geralt took Jaskier’s hand in his own.

The next contraction ran through him and Jaskier shouted at the pain as his body reacted on instinct, pushing with all the strength he could muster. He squeezed Geralt’s hand tightly, as the contraction roaches through him. When it ended, Jaskier collapsed against Geralt, eyes dropping closed as the exhaustion crept around him. His vision was fuzzy and black dots danced in his eyes.

“Jask, you need to stay awake for us.” Triss said, voice slightly panicked as Jaskier drifted.

The next contraction sent a shock through Jaskier’s body and he screamed in agony. Tears pinpricked at his eyes as he was torn from the haze he’d been drifting into to the searing agony that was his present. His body automatically pushed down and Jaskier screamed again.

“I can’t...I can’t.” Jaskier sobbed as the contraction ended, collapsing into Geralt’s chest and sobbing.

“You can Jask.” Geralt whispered. “You have to. An at the end of it all you’ll have your little baby.” Jaskier sobbed, another contraction building inside him. “Just a little more Jask, just a little more and you’re baby will be here.”

Jaskier grunted, shouting as his next contraction appeared, his body pushing hard. He felt something slip out of him. “The baby’s head.” Triss shouted, joy in her voice and Jaskier felt his heart sore, tears slipping down his face as a smile spread across his face.

“One more Jask, almost done.” Geralt said, squeezing Jaskier’s hands.

At the next contraction, emboldened by the knowledge his baby was almost out, Jaskier put as much strength as he could muster into the push. He screamed as he pushed, body tensing through the push.

He felt the tear deep inside himself at the same time the baby slipped free. The cries of a newborn baby filled the room, filling Jaskier’s heart with joy; even as he felt the hot gush of blood gush from his body.

“Fuck, Jask. Fuck.” Triss’ voice was barely audible in Jaskier’s ears. Everything was hazy. Distant. Jaskier felt like it was all happening somewhere very far away from him as he collapsed boneless against Geralt’s chest.

The crying of the baby filled the room and Jaskier thought he might have smiled, eyes tracking the room to find his crying child. Except it was all hazy, like fog in his mind and black spots danced in his minds eye. He thought he saw Yennefer carrying a wrapped bundle away from him and wanted to shout for her to stop, to give him his child.

Except he couldn’t find the energy, body failing now his baby was born. He felt a slight hint of regret fill him, knowing he wouldn’t get to hold his baby but even as he though it the thought drifted away. It didn’t really matter. His child was alive.

Alive and crying and safe. 

That was Jaskier’s last thought before the blackness claimed him.


	21. Chapter 21

The scent of coppery blood was thick in the air and Geralt felt his heart break in two as he held the limp body of his mate in his arms. “Fuck, Yenn. I need you.” Triss shouted. Geralt didn’t notice, feeling utterly numb as he held the limp body of his mate in his arms. He could barely make out the sound of Jaskier’s heartbeat, the sound of his to thin ragged breaths. Fuck, jaskier was dying. his mate was dying.

“Geralt, we need you to move.” Yennefer’s voice had Geralt growling, pulling a skier closer. He wouldn’t let go of his dying mate. He wouldn’t leave him, not now. “Geralt, if you want us to save him you need to move.”

And Geralt didn’t want to. Didn’t want to surrender his mate to anyone but he knew Yenenfer was right. With more care than he’d done anything before, Geralt gently lifted himself away from the nest, placing Jaskier’s head gently to the mattress. Jaskier’s face, no longer lined with creases of pain, looked peaceful. Like was sleeping. A small smile was on his face and Geralt felt his heart ache. 

Glancing to were Yennefer was dropping herself to her knees next to Triss, he saw a pool of blood soaking into the sheets and furs and mattresses underneath. Geralt felt sick as the overwhelming scent of copper filled the air. Jaskier’s blood. His Jaskier’s blood.

Geralt backed away, heart clenching as he watched the scene unfold. Chaos filled the air, Triss and Yennefer working their magic over Jaskier to heal him. But it was already to late. Geralt could barely hear Jaskier’s breathing anymore, couldn’t even detect his heartbeat with his Witcher hearing. It felt like he was underwater, drowning, lost. 

Fuck, Ciri. How would she take this. She would be crushed, distraught. Fuck, Jaskier was the one who always comforted her, how was Geralt supposed to do that for Ciri when he told her. How could he do what Jaskier did? How could he wrap her in his arms and comfort her as he told her Jaskier had died.

Fuck, how could Geralt do anything without Jaskier. Jaskier who was always there to help Geralt, to give him the guidance the Witcher refused to admit he needed when it came to anything but slaying monster. Jaskier was there for them al, how were any of them going to sop without Jaskier there. Jaskier who would have known exactly what to say to offer comfort, what to do...except Jaskier wasn’t there. Jaskier was lying on a mattress surrounded in his own blood. Dying.

Triss and Yennefer were saying something but Geralt could barely concentrate past the desperate focus he had on Jaskier’s breathing, as if if Geralt focused on Jaskier’s breathing then Jaskier would live. Jaskier would be ok. 

“We need to get the afterbirth....fuck Yenn....There’s too much blood...” Triss’ voice filtered through Geralt’s hearing like a somber tune. 

Was Yennefer crying. Geralt could glance the tears sliding down her face but he couldn’t concentrate on it. Just listen to the ragged barely detectable breaths of his beloved mate. Of the only person who had ever seen past Geralt’s stoic facade, had taken the time to get to know the Witcher underneath rumours and suspicion. The only person capable of loving a Witcher whole heartedly and with no regrets. 

Geralt’s hadn’t realised he’d been backing away until his back hit the dressing table. A gurgle dragged Geralt’s eyes from the macabre scene playing in front of him to the cause of all of this.

Jaskier’s baby was staring up at Geralt. It was swaddled tightly in a bright orange blanket, Geralt vaguely remembered a few days ago jaskier picking this out, stating his baby was going to be surrounded by colour and happiness from the moment they were born. They had a shock of jet black hair, nose narrower and sharper than Jaskier’s was. Geralt felt himself bristle at the obvious sight of the baby’s sire but the anger disappeared as quickly as it appeared when the baby fixed bright blue eyes on him. Jaskier’s eyes. Jaskier’s baby had his eyes. 

Geralt felt his knees go weak as he looked at the tiny helpless little thing, gargling up at him. The whole world seemed to melt as Geralt just stared at the cornflower blue eyes of the man he loved. Geralt didn’t even realise he was reaching out until he had a finger hovering over the baby. It gurgled up at him, blinking. And all the time those bright blue eyes made Geralt’s broken heart fill with a semblance of warmth. Jaskier’s baby. This was Jaskier’s tiny little baby that Geralt’s mate had loved so much, had been willing to die for.

“Jaskier’s son.” Yennefer’s voice broke Geralt out of his trance and as he looked away from the gurgling baby he felt all the terror and pain run through him at once.

He didn’t dare lift his head to look a t Jaskier’s cold body, didn’t dare strain his hearing to try to listen to the none existent breathing or heartbeat. He couldn’t face seeing Jaskier dead. He wouldn’t.

“Geralt,” Yennefer’s face was lined with exhaustion, her hands shaking when he took his hand in hers. “He’s alive. Jaskier’s ok.”

And Geralt dropped to his knees at the words, relief rushing over him as he finally looked to where Jaskier was lying in his nest. The blood still surrounded him, like hundreds of roses. He was pale, body limp where it lay. But now as Geralt concentrated he could detect the sound of Jaskier’s breathing...his heartbeat. They were both faint, weak in a way that they had never been before. But they were there. His Jaskier was alive.

Tears of joy sprung from his eyes as he dropped his head into his hands. Jaskier was alive. His baby was alive. They were both alive.

“Can you help us get him on the bed?” Yennefer said, gently tugging at Geralt’s arm.

Geralt grunted, easily getting to his feet and walking towards Jaskier. Closer, the scent of blood overwhelmed Geralt and he almost stumbled from the grief. But he forced himself to concentrate on Jaskier’s weak heartbeat. He was alive. Jaskier was alive.

“He’ll be ok.” Triss said, exhaustion in her voice. She hadn’t moved from where she was knelt in front of Jaskier and Geralt got the impression that she was to tired to move. The remnants of chaos surrounded Jaskier, making Geralt’s medallion buzz at his neck as he gently picked Jaskier up in his arms.

Yennefer and Triss had obviously had to use a lot of chaos to save Jaskier and Geralt knew he would never be able to repay them. Without them hear, Jaskier would have died. Of that there was no doubt in Geralt’s mind.

Yennefer pulled back the blankets on the bed, watching as Geralt gently placed Jaskier onto the bed. Jaskier didn’t stir, just lay limp and motionless as Geralt ran a hand over his hair.

“The baby tore him when they came out.” Yennefer spoke, voice quiet as Geralt gently placed the blankets over Jaskier’s still form, carefully tucking the them to cover Jaskier fully. “Fuck...we almost lost him.” Yennefer’s voice broke on the words and Geralt felt another tear slip past his amber eyes. He’d almost lost his mate. 

“He would have if you weren’t here.” Geralt grunted, voice filled with emotion as he turned blazing eyes to Yennefer and Triss. “You saved him.”

“He’d not out of the woods yet.” Triss said, standing on shaking legs. She was pale and had to lean heavily against a wall as she spoke. “We healed what tore inside him but he’s lost a lot of blood.”

“You need to be careful until the birthing passage has healed as well.” Yennefer spoke, tiredness flooding her voice. “We’ve stitched it up but we didn’t have enough chaos to heal it properly.”

“It’ll heal itself in a few weeks.” Triss spoke, voice quiet.

Geralt ran a hand through Jaskier’s hair, remembering the bright blue eyes of Jaskier’s child, Jaskier’s son looking at him. “Jaskier’s going to live to see his son grow up.” Geralt spoke, emotion choking him. “That’s down to you both and I’ll be grateful forever for it.”

Silence ran across the room after this. The two sorceress collapsed on the two seats by the fire, exhaustion clouding their features. Geralt stood motionless with his hand stroking through Jaskier’s hair, watching the way Jaskier’s chest rose and fell with his quiet breathing, relief settling in his chest at the sight.

And then the sound of the crying baby filled the room, startling all 3 from their thoughts. Yennefer was first on her feet, walking over to the baby, Geralt close behind her as fear gripped his chest once more. Was the baby ok? Where they injured? The thought of losing Jaskier’s son before Jaskier had even had a chance to hold him tore at Geralt’s already frail heart.

Yennefer gently picked the crying baby up in her arms, setting a rocking motion as the baby continued to cry. “Is he ok?” Geralt asked, panic flooding him. 

“He’s probably just hungry.” Triss said, staggering to her feet. “I’ll get the Witchers to bring up some milk for him.” Triss’ eyes drifted over to Jaskier with a pained expression, “I know Jaskier will want to feed him but...”

“He won’t mind.” Yennefer smiled down at the tiny bundle. “As long as the baby’s ok.”

“Ren.” Geralt suddenly said, mind drifting back to Jaskier’s names for his children. Primrose if they were a girls and Ren if they were a boy.

“Ren.” Yennefer smiled down at the baby. “Of course Jaskier would name his son after a child.” That got a laugh from Triss were she had her hand on the door and even Geralt smiled softly at that. “Do you want to hold him?” Yennefer asked, arms out stretching for Geralt to take the baby.

The baby had topped crying again, blue eyes bright as they stared at Geralt. So much like Jaskier. Jaskier who hadn’t even held his own son yet. Jaskier who had no idea if he’d had a boy or a girl. Fuck. Geralt didn’t think he could hold Jaskier’s son when Jaskier himself hadn’t.

“How about you hold him on the bed?” Yennefer asked. Geralt glanced around the room, seeing Triss had disappeared and wondered when she had gone. His gaze drifted down to the blood soaked sheets, the scent of blood heavy in the air.

“No, I need to clean this mess.” Geralt growled. Jaskier’s blood was thick in the air, making him feel sick as he stalked over to Jaskier’s lovingly builds nest. He gathered the blood soaked sheets, stripping the nest of the furs that had also been coated in blood despite the sheets Yennefer and Triss had placed down to prevent that happening.

He’d have someone bring up replacement furs. He’d leave the nest in place so Jaskier could sit in it with his son just like Geralt knew Jaskier would want to. Geralt felt his heart thud painfully in his chest at the thought of how close they’d come to losing Jaskier even as he pushed the thought aside viciously. Jaskier was alive. Jaskier was alive and soon he would be awake and laughing and singing and being his generally annoying self. It would be fine. Jaskier was alive.

“Geralt...” Yennefer tried but Geralt brushed past her, refusing to look at the tiny bundle in her arms. Refused to look at little Ren with eyes as blue and as vibrant as Jaskier’s. No, Geralt wouldn’t. He couldn’t let himself be drawn into those eyes, knowing if he looked to long he’d be holding the baby, Jaskier’s baby. And he wouldn’t, not when Jaskier hadn’t held him yet.

“These need cleaning.” Geralt growled, stalking past Yennefer and opening the door to the corridor.

Only to find Eskel, Lambert, Vesemir, Aidan, Letho, Aukes and Ciri standing in the corridor waiting. He froze, hands filled with the blood soaked sheets, Yennefer looking over his shoulder, Ren in her arms. jaskier tucked in the bed.

“Triss...Triss said he was ok.” Eskel was the first to speak, despair colouring his tone as he looked into the room at Jaskier’s still form.

“He is.” Geralt growled, refusing to let Eskel finish that thought. “He’s alive.”

“Fuck...Geralt, is that...”. Lambert started but Geralt cut him off with a snarl, shoving the bloodied sheets at him. He couldn’t talk about this. He couldn’t let himself think about how close he’d come to loosing Jaskier, to loosing his mate. No, Jaskier was alive. He was fine. He was alive.

“Is that the baby?” Vesemir, eyes fixed on the tiny bundle, wrapped in Yennefer’s eyes.

Geralt growled menacingly, a sudden need to protect Jaskier’s child filling him. Fuck, they were barely an hour old, they didn’t need Witchers crowding them.

“We’ll get the sheets washed.” Ciri spoke, drawing Geralt’s attention to his child surprise. Her emerald eyes were wide, red from recent tears shed, but she held herself tall, kept her voice even as she spoke. “Triss went down to get milk from the goats, Eskel you go and help her.” Eskel grunted, moving to do as Ciri bid. Lambert and Aidan walked down the corridor, with the dirtied sheets as Ciri turned to Letho and Aukes. “You two, go and get some fresh water brought up to Yenn and Triss’ rooms. And food. They’ll need it after all this.” Letho and Aukes nodded, moving down the corridor and leaving just Vesemir and Ciri standing there.

“He’ll be ok.” Geralt said, eyes fixed on Ciri in a way that he hoped was reassuring even though he knew it wasn’t. Ciri’s eyes dropped past Geralt to look into the room, eyes moving between Jaskier’s still form and the tiny bundle in Yennefer’s arms.

“Boy or girl?” Ciri’s voice was quiet as she asked.

Geralt smiled, a true smile this time. “A boy. Ren.” Geralt paused for a moment before continuing. “He has Jaskier’s eyes.”

A silent tear ran down Ciri’s face and Vesemir coughed to clear his throat. Vesemir dropped a hand onto Ciri’s shoulder, looking at Geralt with proud amber eyes and nodding. Geralt nodded back. 

“We’ll pass the news onto the others.” Vesemir said, pushing Ciri back down the corridor.

Geralt watched them go but was drawn back into the room when Ren gurgled in Yennefer’s arms. Stalking back in, he gently closed the door, eyes scanning for anything else that needed attention. Yennefer walked towards him, opening her mouth to speak but in that moment Geralt’s gaze fell on Jaskier. 

“We should get him clean.” Geralt grunted, stalking over to his mate and running a hand through sweat soaked hair. “He won’t want to wake up covered in filth.” Even on the path Jaskier had been obsessed in ensuring he and Geralt were both clean. The bard making sue of every bath an inn had to offer.

“Geralt, Triss and I already washed away the blood and I don’t think he’s ready for a bath yet.” Yennefer’s voice was filled with worry as she watched Geralt’s shoulders slump. “Geralt, why won’t you hold the baby?” She asked and Geralt growled, turning on his heel to glare at her. Only to have his eyes drawn to the tiny little boy in her arms. So small. Fragile. Too fragile. 

Geralt felt the fight drain from him as he collapsed onto the edge of the bed. His hand automatically came to run fingers through Jaskier’s hair, drawing comfort from Jaskier’s breathing. Still weak but more peaceful sounding, especially after the short pained gasps that had filled the room during the labour.

“I’m a Witcher Yenn.” Geralt finally spoke, watching as Yennefer settled into the armchair, gently rocking the baby in her arms. “I’m a monster made to fight monsters. I’m meant to kill monsters, protect innocent people from the monsters. Innocent people like Jaskier.” Geralt’s hand stopped in his gentle stroking of Jaskier’s hair before pulling away and dropping his head into his hands, unable to look at either Jaskier, Yennefer and epically not the baby.

“I failed him.” Geralt spoked, voice croaked with emotion. “I didn’t protect Jaskier from the monsters. I knew Jaskier’s heat was coming soon, that there was a chance it might come while we were in Cintra and I should have protected him, I should have stopped Jaskier from even going to Cintra but I didn’t.”

“If I remember correctly, Jaskier refused to listen to you and insisted he go.” Yennefer’s voice was careful in her tone, as if afraid if she said the wrong thing she would set Geralt off.

Geralt just shook his head, the despair and uselessness he’d been feeling for months, ever since Jaskier had been taken, overwhelming him. “I should have been there. I shouldn’t have given Nilfgaard the opportunity to take him, I should have protected him better. It’s because of me he was taken. Because of me he was raped. Because of me he became pregnant.”

“Geralt, that wasn’t your fault.” Yennefer said, voice gentle.

Geralt turned his gaze on her, amber eyes glaring at her in anger. “I’m Jaskier’s alpha, his mate, I love him Yenn and I should have fucking protected him.”

Yennefer was silent for e moment before she turned violet eyes onto the child, a sad look passing her features. “In that logic then I’m as much to blame as you.”

“Yenn,” Geralt started but Yennefer cut him off with a glare.

“Ciri is my daughter, if not by blood. I should have protected her that day. I should have been there to protect her. But I wasn’t, just like you weren’t. And because of that, Jaskier had to protect her. Jaskier who barely knows where the pointed end of a dagger is despite you Witchers best intentions.” Yennefer was silent for a moment, head still down, looking at the baby before continuing. “If I’d been there then Jaskier wouldn’t have been taken. None of this would have happened.” Yennefer turned violet eyes on Geralt. “Destiny has a funny way of giving us things we didn’t now we needed.”

The room was silent a moment longer before Geralt continued speaking. “I’m still to blame for what I did when I found out.” Geralt said, eyes turning to the tiny baby in Yennefer’s eyes. “I hated it. I hated Jaskier’s baby and I wanted them dead...Fuck, I hurt Jaskier more than those Nilfgaardian’s ever could.”

Yennefer nodded, eyes fierce. “I won’t deny that you did. And I won’t deny that I think Jaskier forgave you to easily and to quickly after what you did. After what you put him through. But Geralt, it isn’t my place to judge you. Jaskier forgave you. He forgave you and he understood why you did it. You did it because you Witchers are incapable of reacting to anything new and frightening in any way but to be angry. To lash out. Even if doing that hurts the people you care about.”

Geralt turned to Yennefer, seeing the understanding in her eyes and Geralt felt himself shiver under her glare. Yennefer had always been able to read him well. Too well. “Those aren’t reasons for not holding the baby thought.” Yennefer stated and Geralt growled, dropping his gaze back to the baby.

“I don’t have a right to hold Jaskier’s child. Not after what I did. Not when Jaskier hasn’t even held him, fuck doesn’t even know he has a son.”

“Jaskier won’t care bout any of that.” Yennefer said and Geralt knew she was right but the doubt still lingered in his mind. “Jaskier chose you to be the baby’s alpha Father. He asked you because he loves you and Jaskier knows you will be the best most doting alpha parent to this little baby, just like you are to Ciri. And you agreed. That gives you every right to hold the baby because this isn’t just Jaskier’s baby. It’s your baby to.”

Yennefer stood up, walking over to where Geralt was sitting and silently handing him the tiny bundle. Geralt hesitated, eyes dropping to those bright blue eyes, blinking up at him before nodding his head, hesitantly holding his arms around. Yennefer nodded her approval and gently placed the tiny baby into Geralt’s arms.

The baby was light, fragile in his arms. He was hesitant as he cradled the baby close but Ren had no issues, cuddling into his arms with a happy gurgle as his eyes dropped closed. Geralt felt his heart burst with happiness as the tiny baby fell into sleep. Glancing a look at Jaskier, Geralt felt his heart warm at the thought of what Jaskier would think when he woke up. He’d probably cry. Tears of joy and happiness as he looked at Geralt holding Ren. Jaskier would probably start writing songs the second he was ready about Geralt holding the child, destroying any scrap of doubt that Geralt was anything but a big cuddly alpha wrapped around his omegas fingers.

His omegas and his baby. His little Ren. His and Jaskier’s. Not his by blood but still his.


	22. Chapter 22

2 days and Jaskier still hadn’t woken up. Geralt had had the Witchers bring up fresh water, warming it with Igni and wiped away the rest of the sweat from Jaskier’s skin before redressing him in a clean chemise and sleeping pants before tucking him back into the bed. Jaskier hadn’t stirred throughout the whole process. He just carried on sleeping, a peaceful expression on his face. His heart was stronger than it had been and Triss and Yennefer (after nearly a full days rest for themselves) insisted that Jaskier’s body was taking the time to heal. The birth had been traumatic on his body, it was normal that Jaskier wasn’t awake yet.  
Except every time Geralt looked over at Jaskier, tucked under blankets, face pale, eyes closed. Fuck, it hurt to see. He kept having to remind himself that Jaskier was alive. Kept having to focus on the sound of Jaskier’s soft breathing, of his heart in his chest. Because if he didn’t…fuck, if he just looked at Jaskier like he was now then it would be so easy for Geralt to lose himself in sorrow.

And he couldn’t do that. Ren needed him.

The little baby spent most of his 2 days of life sleeping and drinking the milk from the goat. Ever time Geralt gave the baby the warmed goats milk, he felt his heart clench because this should be Jaskier feeding his baby, not Geralt. Jaskier. Except Jaskier wasn’t awake, wouldn’t be strong enough even if he was awake to look after his baby no matter how much Geralt knew Jaskier would want to.

So Geralt barely slept in those 2 days. Fuck, he didn’t sleep. Didn’t even meditate. Slipping between caring for the tiny baby and gently smearing water on Jaskier’s lips so his mate was at least drinking something in his sleep, not wanting him to waste away after all of this. Yennefer and Triss had tried to help him but the first time Triss suggested taking Ren out of their rooms, away from Jaskier, to give Geralt a break had Geralt snarling in anger.

Jaskier might not be awake yet, might not even be aware of his child in the same room as he was. But Geralt wouldn’t separate them.

At night, Geralt would settled the sleeping baby on the mattress, careful of Jaskier’s still sleeping form. The baby would gurgle, wrapped in a soft brightly coloured blanket and curled at his sleeping Papa’s side. Ren seemed to like it, the little baby always blinking at Jaskier when he woke and making a happy sounding gurgle.

Geralt wouldn’t let anyone else in their rooms though. Yennefer and Triss he allowed only because he admitted he needed help caring for not only Ren but a sleeping Jaskier. But no one else. No, he wouldn’t risk crowding the tiny baby, not when he didn’t know how Ren might react to too many people, strangers to him. All little Ren knew was the inside of these four walls and Geralt could keep him safe here. He could protect his little baby in this one room, he couldn’t do that if he started letting every Witcher in the keep in here. Not that he thought they would hurt this tiny fragile little baby that was Geralt’s to protect, but because Geralt was scared. He was scared because he had never seen anything so fragile as Ren. And it scared him to think of how easy it would be for someone to hurt him.

But fuck if Geralt wasn’t exhausted. Caring for a 2 day old infant was hard. Fucking exhausting work. The baby was entirely dependant on Geralt for everything. Feeding, bathing, cleaning. Everything. And Geralt was so scared he’d hurt this tiny baby. Overly cautious Yennefer had said, stating rather bluntly the first time she’s shown Geralt how to bathe Ren that babies were more resilient than most other creatures. Geralt didn’t believe her. Not when Ren was so small, fitting snugly in Geralt’s arm. Fuck, he didn’t think anything could be this small.

The sound of the baby crying broke Geralt from his thoughts. Lifting his head from where he’d been sat in Jaskier’s nest, the scent of his mate surrounding him as he meditated, Geralt was on his feet immediately. The sky outside was dark, stars shining. Ren’s cry the only thing breaking the quiet of the night as Geralt gently picked up the tiny crying baby.

“Hungry, cub?” Geralt hummed. The baby just cried in response and Geralt hummed, walking over to set up the goat milk he’d already had prepared.

Geralt gently rocked the baby in his arms as he worked, the motions mechanical at this point after doing the same thing so many times a day. When the bottle was ready, warmed to the right temperature with Igni, he gently brought the teat of the bottle up to Ren to drink. Ren immediately latched on and Geralt sighed, relaxing as he continued to rock the baby.

But the Ren spat the teat out and continued crying. Geralt frowned, the diaper was clean. Geralt had fast learnt that he’d smell the baby’s need for a diaper change long before Ren started crying about it. “What wrong cub?” Geralt asked, moving to place Ren over his shoulder. Maybe he need burping. It was perhaps Geralt’s least favourite task of looking after the newborn, the child’s sick always running down his back and into his hair, but he hated the crying Ren gave and would do anything to make the little baby better.

Except that wasn’t what was wrong either. Ren just continued to cry and cry and cry until Geralt was seriously debating getting Yennefer and Triss. 0Panic flooded him as he kept trying to comfort the crying infant, desperately trying to think of what could be wrong even as the baby kept wailing in his arms. Geralt was frantically rocking the baby in his arms when his eyes dropped to the bed, where Jaskier was beginning to stir.

Fuck.

Ren kept crying though and Geralt couldn’t abandon the crying infant, even if Jaskier was beginning to wake. Every instinct in Geralt warred between going to his mate, who he could hear his breathing start to pick up in the way it always did when Jaskier first woke, or trying to care for his crying child.

“G’ralt?” Jaskier’s voice slurred, blue bleary eyes fixing on Geralt as he blinked a few times. Ren continued to cry.

……….

Jaskier woke to the sound of a baby crying. He groaned softly, trying to force his mind past the thick fog surrounding him. That was his baby. His tiny little baby that he’d carried for months inside him. They were crying, wailing. They needed him.

Except Jaskier’s whole body felt so heavy. The blackness pulling at his consciousness, trying to pull him back into the blissful unconsciousness. His whole body ached, most of all his stomach and groin area. It felt like something had been torn out of him, which he supposed it had been in the form of his baby. His baby who was crying and crying and crying.

Waking up was like pushing through a web of cobwebs, trying to pull him back down, leave him stuck in this semi-wakefulness forced to listen to his crying baby. Were they ok? Were they injured? The baby’s wailing was near frantic and it tore at Jaskier’s heart every single cry.

Jaskier’s eyes opened with more effort than he thought possible, his weak body protested the movement of his head as Jaskier searched for the source of his crying child. Only to be met with a sight that warmed his heart. Geralt, standing in the middle of the room, gently rocking a crying infant swaddled in a bright orange blanket. The Witcher had a look of agonizing worry on his face as he tried to make the child stop crying

As Geralt turned to look at Jaskier, his alpha seemed to freeze, looking at Jaskier in shock. Jaskier offered what he hoped was a soft smile and started to speak, only to stop himself at the appalling croakiness his voice came out as.

“G’ralt?” Jaskier coughed, surprised the find his throat dry and sore as he swallowed, before speaking again. “The baby…pass…” Jaskier paused, a bout of coughing overtaking him that had him groaning and collapsing against the mattress, trying to catch his breath.

“Shit.” Geralt breathed, transferring the tiny child in his arms and grabbing a cup of water for Jaskier. Jaskier groaned, his arms feeling like noodles as he tried to get himself to sit up. But his body, weak and uncooperative could barely get him leaning half upright against the cushions, and even that left him breathless.

“Don’t try to move Jask. Your body still needs time to recover.” Geralt murmured, still rocking the baby that had finally stopped crying. Jaskier hummed, letting Geralt press the cup to his lips and swallowing the cold water there. He groaned at the feeling, soothing his raw throat as he collapsed back against the cushions, eyes drifting closed as black spots danced in his vision once more.

Only to wake up fully once more at the sound of his tiny baby crying. Jaskier blinked, eyes drawn to the tiny bundle in Geralt’s arm and forced his uncooperating limbs to move. “Jask, don’t.” Geralt growled but with an armful of the baby he couldn’t force Jaskier back to a lying position.

After what felt like an age Jaskier had himself seated properly, breathing coming out in uneven gasps as his body slumped against the back of the bed, exhaustion creeping him. “Let me…hold my…baby.” Jaskier forced out past his sore throat, holding out shaking hands.

“Jask, you need to rest.” Geralt said, worry obvious in his tone.

“I need to hold my baby.” Jaskier growled back. Now he was fully awake the desperate need to hold his child in his arms overcame him and Jaskier would have thrown himself out of the bed and taken his baby from Geralt if he’d had the energy to do it. As it was, holding out his arms for his child, they shook unbearably and Jaskier cursed his weakened body. “Please, Geralt.” Jaskier pleaded, looking at Geralt with pleading blue eyes.

Geralt sighed, amber eyes defeated, as he gently passed the tiny bundle over to Jaskier. Jaskier took the baby in his arms, eyes watering in happiness as the baby in his arms. The child was tiny, fitting snuggly in Jaskier’s arms, a warm weight cradled against Jaskier’s chest. Jaskier hummed softly, rocking the baby in his arms. They looked up at him, bright blue eyes blinking up at him and gurgled happily. Jaskier laughed, tears running down his face at the sight.

“Ren.” Geralt grunted, hesitantly sitting on Jaskier’s side. Jaskier hummed, body pressing close to Geralt’s side as the alpha wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders. Ren gurgled happily, looking up at them.

“He’s perfect.” Jaskier breathed. Geralt hummed his agreement, gently kissing the top of Jaskier’s hair.

“I was so scared Jask.” Geralt breathed, arm tightening around Jaskier’s shoulder. “We almost lost you.”

Jaskier ad never heard Geralt’s voice sound so scared before now, hearing him say those words. He’d have to talk to his alpha about that. But not now. Not when he had his baby warm and safe in his arms. “It doesn’t matter.” Jaskier whispered, leaning heavily into Geralt’s arms, exhaustion starting to overtake him. “We’re both here now. Safe.”

“Geralt hummed, tightening his arms around Jaskier and pulling him close so he was leaning against Geralt’s chest, the baby cradled in both their arms. Jaskier hummed contently, leaning back and finally letting sleep fill him. Happy and content in the knowledge he was surrounded by his mate and his son. His family.


	23. Chapter 23

Unsurprisingly Ciri was the first person to meet baby Ren, except of course Yennefer and Triss who were in the rooms checking up on Jaskier and Ren every day since the birth. It was a week after Jaskier had given birth and Ciri was understandably nervous and terrified.

They had all heard Jaskier’s labour, even Ciri with no Witcher hearing had heard the screams and shouts of pain from the room as Jaskier gave birth. She had never felt more scared in her life listening to those heart-breaking screams, spending the time glued to Eskel’s side. The scarred Witcher had seemed to take comfort from Ciri as much as she had him as they stood with Lambert, Vesemir, Letho, Aidan and Aukes in the corridor outside Jaskier’s rooms. They were the ones closest to Jaskier over his years in Kaer Morhen and unsurprisingly none of them were willing to be further away from Jaskier than they had to be, in case the omega needed them.

When the sound of crying had come from the door, Ciri had felt elation buzz her. She’d jumped into Eskel’s arms and laughed in happiness at the sound of Jaskier’s baby, later she found out his son, her baby brother. Eskel had had tears in his eyes and Lambert had growled angrily at them all, even as Ciri saw him brush at his eyes.

But the joy was cut short the second they heard Triss’ voice filtering through the door. Manic shouting of Triss and Yennefer as they fought to save Jaskier’s life. Ciri had been terrified. Terrified in a way she hadn’t been since Nilfgaard had attacked Cintra and her Grandmother had died. She was losing Jaskier, a man who had raised her as if she was his own child.

And then Triss had come out of the room and told them all Jaskier and the baby were alive. They were alive and fine, and Ciri had cried again in relief. Jaskier was alive and so was his baby.

When Geralt came out later, pain in his amber eyes, Ciri had known Geralt was distraught. Geralt loved Jaskier, more than anyone. Losing Jaskier, Ciri knew, would have destroyed him. And Geralt, being Geralt, wouldn’t admit that he was avoiding that fact as he threw the bloodied blankets at Lambert and glared at Vesemir. So Ciri had done the only thing she could think to do in that situation, eyes drawn to Yennefer in the back of the room, holding the orange blanket of her new brother. She’d taken control of the situation.

As she’d told the Witchers what needed doing, ensuring everything the baby and Jaskier needed would be ready and there for them; she had caught Yennefer’s violet eyes. Yennefer had nodded, giving her an approving smile and Ciri had felt her confidence bolstered as she walked back down the corridor with Vesemir.

And now she was going to be the first person, officially, to meet baby Ren. Ciri was terrified. After everything Jaskier had gone through, after everything they had all thought of the tiny little baby because of what it was doing to Jaskier. And now they were here. Ren was here. And Ciri could feel her heart thundering, wondering if she truly deserved to be part of this baby’s life. She had never pushed the baby aside, but that hadn’t been love for the baby. No, she had taken Jaskier’s side in keeping the baby because Jaskier had decided it. Whether she believed he was right or wrong was irrelevant but Ciri had secretly held a hatred of the child that had been slowly killing Jaskier. And now she was going to meet them.

Ciri paused at the door, hand hovering to knock but unable to do so. Jaskier loved his child, but for Jaskier love came easily. Jaskier had never hesitated even once when confronted with the pregnancy, despite how the pregnancy had occurred. And Geralt, despite his initial anger, his initial hatred of the baby, Ciri knew Geralt had grown to love Jaskier’s child. Ren was as much Geralt’s child as Jaskier. The simple way Geralt had acted in those last few months of Jaskier’s pregnancy had proven it. The alpha always hovering, hands always caressing Jaskier’s pregnant belly every chance he got. 

But did she love the baby? Did she love Jaskier’s child? Of that she didn’t know. The idea of having a baby brother, of meeting the tiny child filled her with joy and happiness. But at the same time doubt niggled at her. This was the same baby that had spent months hurting Jaskier. This was still the baby of a rapist. Geralt had said Ren had Jaskier’s eyes but…what else? What traits did he share with Jaskier and what traits did he share with his sire? She knew with Jaskier raising the baby that they would grow up as loving and caring as Jaskier himself was but…what would happen when Ren was old enough to ask who his Father was. What would they say? How would he react?

All answers she couldn’t answer. No, all she knew for certain was that Jaskier had had his baby and they were both fine. Everything else, they would figure out along the way.

Pushing aside the doubt, Ciri knocked on the door. Geralt’s quiet come in filtered through the wooden door and Ciri pushed inside as confidently as she could. And then froze as her eyes took in the scene in front of her.

Geralt was standing in the middle of the room, amber eyes fond as he turned to Ciri and gave her a smile in greeting. A smile, a proper smile. Not those grimaces Geralt tried to pass off as smiles but a proper heart warming ones.

The cause of his smile was clear enough as Ciri’s eyes moved over to where Jaskier was holding Ren in the bed. Jaskier was sitting up, still paler than usual and he had black circles under his eyes but the blue in his eyes had never, to Ciri, been brighter. And he was smiling. Not the broad smile he always wore. No this was a softer, gentler smile. It made him look younger in a way and his eyes were focused solely on the baby in his arms.

Ren was wrapped in an orange blanket, cradled lightly in Jaskier’s arms and he appeared to be asleep. Drawn in by the scene, Ciri found herself moving forwards to stand at the side of the bed. Jaskier glanced up, smiling at her softly. “Do you want to hold him?” Jaskier asked, voice soft and Ciri found herself nodding, heart in mouth as Jaskier gently passed Ren over to her. Ciri quickly copied the way Jaskier held his arms as he placed Ren into them. “That’s it, don’t worry you won’t drop him.” Jaskier said encouragingly.

Ren had woken up, blinking blue eyes up at her and Ciri felt her heart melt. Jaskier’s eyes indeed. The baby gurgled and Jaskier laughed softly from the bed. Geralt had drifted closer, amber eyes blazing as he stared at the tiny baby. “You can talk to him, he likes it when you talk.” Jaskier encouraged.

Geralt snorted, shaking his head. “Good thing seeing as you never shut up.” Jaskier gasped at him in mock shock even as his eyes brightened in mirth.

Ciri smiled, tension disappearing that she didn’t even realise she’d been holding as she saw Jaskier and Geralt more at ease than they had ever been before. “Hi there, Ren. I’m your big sister Ciri and I love you.” The baby gurgled happily as if in answer and Ciri felt her heart melt.

Jaskier chuckled softly next to her, eyes fixed on his baby. “I can just imagine the mischief you two will get into when he’s a bit older.”

“We’ll be the bane of all Kaer Morhen.” Ciri declared dramatically and Jaskier snorted a laugh and Geralt smirked. 

Sitting there, watching the tiny baby in her arms, Ciri knew her fears were unfounded. Whatever the future brought it didn’t matter. Because she loved Ren, she loved her little brother with all her heart.

…………….

Vesemir was the next to meet baby Ren, visiting the next morning. He’d gone down that morning after breakfast, listening to Ciri gush about baby Ren’s arrival. He hadn’t realised what he’d been thinking until Triss had gone to get the breakfast tray to bring up Jaskier and Geralt’s breakfast until he’d stood up and taken the tray from her. “I’ll take it to them.” Triss had smiled softly, knowing that Vesemir was only doing it as he wanted to see the baby and nodding.

Knocking at the door, Vesemir knew he would have resistance from Geralt. The white haired alpha was too protective of Jaskier and Vesemir couldn’t blame him. Didn’t. Geralt would make a perfect Father for this baby. He would protect Ren with everything he had, mentor the boy, teach him, train him. Nurture his son in a way the Witchers had never nurtured Geralt or any of the other Witcher boys. The way Vesemir hadn’t.

Vesemir felt his heart clench a little, knowing his boys had deserved the love that Ren would get. He should have been better for them. Fought harder to protect those that they all knew wouldn’t survive the trials. He should have been more understanding, caring to the boys he trained. Not hard and at times cruel as he taught the boys to survive on the path. He knew he’d had to be that. Witchers who were soft wouldn’t survive 5 minutes on the path. He had had to be cruel so that they survived. But how he wished he hadn’t had to be. 

But ren wouldn’t have that. No, Ren would be loved. And cared for nurtured. Not just by Jaskier and Geralt but by them all. Yennefer would love that little boy like her own. Triss would be there for him always, like she was with Ciri now. Ciri would teach that boy everything she knew. Lambert and Eskel and all the other Witchers would be as fierce protectors to Ren as they already were to Ciri. And Vesemir…Vesemir would treat that boy in the way he should have treated his Witchers. With love and care, and kindness.

Opening the door, Vesemir gently placed the tray of breakfast onto the bedside, watching with a soft smile as Jaskier nursed his son. “Vesemir.” Geralt grunted, surprising Vesemir at not insisting he leave.

Jaskier grinned, and then winced as the scent of milk flooded the air. “I’m glad you’re here, we were going to ask Triss if you wanted to be the next person to officially meet Ren.” Vesemir grunted. Jaskier was still thin, to thin but he had a happy flow about him. And he was smiling, a real true smile not the one he had been forcing to wear these last few months.

“May I?” Vesemir asked as the baby finished feeding, gurgling in Jaskier’s arms.

“Of course.” Jaskier smiled, shifting the baby slightly as gently passing him to Vesemir. Vesemir grunted, taking the baby expertly in his arms. Not many parents had handed them newborn babies but enough had given up babies only a few months old for Vesemir to have a good grasp of how to hold them.

Ren shifted and Vesemir gently placed him over his shoulder, running a hand up and down his back. Geralt had moved over to the tray of food, brining it to Jaskier. Jaskier smiled at him gratefully, taking a bite of the berries there and groaning. “Fuck I missed these while I was pregnant.” Geralt snorted in laughter.

Vesemir continued to rub Ren’s back until the baby burped and wet sick dropped down Vesemir’s back. Jaskier looked at him appalled and shocked as he quickly started to apologise. “Shit, I’m so sorry Vesemir. I should have warned you but…”

“Don’t apologise.” Vesemir grunted, letting Geralt take the gurgled baby from his arms. Ren yawned, little eyes closing as Geralt took him over to the chest of drawers and started cleaning him up. “Nothing a wash won’t fix.” Vesemir smiled at Jaskier as Geralt walked past him, gently dropping the baby back into Jaskier’s arms. Jaskier seemed to sigh as the baby curled into his arms, breath even in sleep.

“I’m proud of you both.” Vesemir smiled, voice sincere as he looked at both parents and baby. Jaskier smiled at him, before dropping his gaze back to Ren, rocking the baby gently in his arms. Geralt though looked at Vesemir with a proud smile on his face.

The two Witchers looked at each other for a few more minutes before Geralt grunted and Vesemir nodded his head, heading out of the room and leaving the new family to enjoy their new baby.

………………..

The night of the birth, and emboldened by the knowledge of Jaskier’s survival, the Witchers had thrown a party in the great hall which lasted into the early hours of the next morning. All celebrating the new member of their family, celebrating Jaskier’s baby. They had all attended, all drinking to Jaskier and the baby’s health, singing loud bawdy songs and celebrating.

But not Lambert. No Lambert was in the washing rooms, scrubbing manically at the blood stained sheets. Jaskier’s blood stained sheets. The sheets Jaskier had almost died in. Fuck, there was so much blood. So much fucking blood that shouldn’t be on the sheets but inside Jaskier. Jaskier who almost died. Who fucking looked like death from the second look Lambert had got of him before Geralt had moved to cover the door and hide his mate and child from view.

Lambert shivered and scrubbed harder. They’d almost lost their bard, they’re omega. And the blood was a reminder of that and Lambert had to scrub it off. He had to. He had to get rid of that scent. That scent that made him sick to his stomach in a way not even being covered in Selkimore guts did.

“Lambert.” Aidan’s voice had Lambert jumping in fright and then swinging a fist at the Cat Witcher who easily dodged it.

“Fuck off you prick.” Lambert growled. Aidan of course, didn’t move.

“Leave them Lambert, enjoy the celebrations.” Aidan said, placing a hand on Lamberts shoulder which the prickly Witcher immediately shoved off.

“Fuck you.” Lambert growled but Aidan was perturbed.

“You’re not getting the blood off.” Aidan pointed out and Lambert snarled in anger, throwing the blood stained sheets away.

“I can smell it.” Lambert rounded on Aidan, Aidan didn’t flinch. “I can smell Jaskier’s fucking blood everywhere.”

“He almost died.” Aidan said, voice quiet as he looked at the blood stained sheets for a few minutes. “We’ll burn them.”

“What?” Lambert asked, confused as Aidan gathered the sheets and started to walk towards a door leading from the washing room to the outside.

“We’ll burn them. You’re right, I can smell the blood to. We won’t get the blood out so we’ll burn them.” Aidan replied and Aidan followed numbly, letting Aidan lead them to a secluded part of the grounds.

The wind was cold tonight, but it always was in the mountains. Aidan threw the sheets to the ground as Lambert gathered some dried twigs and threw them on top of them. When he was done, Aidan knelt down, cast Igni and then walked over to where Lambert was stood. The Cat Witcher placed a hand on Lambert’s shoulder and the two stood in silence, watching as the blankets burnt.

“Jaskier’s alive.” Aidan said softly. “And he has a baby.”

“Kid’ll be more trouble than the fucking bard.” Lambert growled with no real anger in his voice.

“With Ciri to teach him all his tricks, absolutely.” Aidan flashed Lambert a grin and Lambert grunted. 

As they watched the blood soaked blanket burn, Lambert felt the tension he’d been feeling since Geralt had thrust those blood stained blankets in his hands leave him.

…………

Eskel and Lambert were the next to meet baby Ren, the afternoon after Vesemir had. Lambert was stoic, near silent and Eskel knew the younger Witcher was acting this way because he was scared. They all were. Jaskier’s blood had been smelt by every Witcher in Kaer Morhen on the day of the birth, and even with Yennefer, Triss, Ciri and Vesemir’s reassurances that Jaskier was fine; it was still hard to believe it. Not when they’d heard the screams and shouting from the room. Fuck, it was little wonder they were both nervous as they waited for Geralt to let them in.

As Geralt opened the door, Eskel walked in and felt himself smile warmly. Ren was lying in his crib, a tiny stuffed toy wolf in his chubby little hands. Eskel gravitated over and grinned madly at the tiny baby. Blue eyes blinked up at him and the baby gurgled in greeting.

“You look like shit bard.” Lambert grunted from where he was still standing in the doorway. Eskel lifted his gaze to look at Jaskier and had to agree with Lambert’s rather blunt explanation.

Jaskier was sitting in the armchair, face pale and black rings around his eyes. He looked exhausted but the smile on his face told Eskel the bard was ok. Jaskier smile was a radiant thing, infectious as he grinned at Lambert. “I think I deserve to look like shit after giving birth.”

Lambert snorted but it seemed to be a silent invitation as the younger Witcher stalked into the room and glared into the crib. Ren gurgled up at him and Lambert grunted. “Cute kid.”

“Cute.” Jaskier gasped, levering himself to his feet. Geralt was at his side in an instant, arms wrapped around Jaskier’s waist and guiding him to the crib. Jaskier took hold of the crib to help support himself and Geralt didn’t once let go of Jaskier’s waist, there in case his omega fell. “Little Ren is the most handsome baby in the whole Continent.”

“Wouldn’t know, haven’t seen many babies.” Lambert grinned and Geralt snorted from behind Jaskier earning him a glare from his mate.

“Are you saying my baby isn’t handsome, Lambert?” Jaskier grinned, dropping a hand into the crib which Ren quickly took in his chubby fingers.

“Yeah, as handsome as you are bard.” Lambert snorted and Jaskier snorted a laugh.

“I shall chose to take that as a compliment.” Jaskier grinned and Lambert snorted, looking down at the baby with a smirk on his lips.

“He’s playing with that toy you got him.” Lambert grunted, motioning to the toy wolf.

Eskel grunted, dropping his head a little in embarrassment. “Our Ren will be the most spoilt child in the whole of the continent then.” Jaskier added, with a grin on his face.

As Lambert and Eskel where leaving, Geralt took hold of Eskel’s arm and pulled his brother into a hug. “That’s his favourite toy you know.” Geralt grunted and to this day Eskel would deny the tear that slipped down his face at Geralt’s words.


	24. Chapter 24

“What’s wrong?” Jaskier asked as he looked at where Geralt was pacing the floor. Ren had just drifted back to sleep, after waking the two up crying for food. Jaskier honestly didn’t think he would ever get used to the strange feeling of his baby’s mouth at his nipple, or lacerating in general really.

“Nothing, go to sleep.” Geralt grunted. The baby was resting in his crib, as he’d been sleeping in the last week. Fuck, Jaskier couldn’t believe Ren was 2 weeks old already. The last 2weeks had been a blur, Jaskier slowly gaining his confidence as a Father as he recovered from the traumatic birth. He didn’t really remember much about the birth, but from what he’d managed to get from Yennefer, he understood it hadn’t been pretty.

“Then come to bed.” Jaskier said, motioning for Geralt to lie down with him. Geralt hadn’t rested properly since the birth. He’d been constantly doing anything and everything for both Ren and Jaskier. This last week had been the first week Yennefer and Triss had cleared Jaskier for doing more than sitting in bed or moving to the armchair to sit there. As it was, he was still weak, Geralt having to help him move around as Jaskier’s legs were too weak from weeks of inactivity to hold him up.

Geralt grunted at Jaskier, dropping to the mattress. Jaskier hummed, wrapping his arms around Geralt and snuggling close but Geralt didn’t move. He was stiff in Jaskier’s arms and Jaskier felt his heart clench. Geralt was bottling up his emotions, in the same way he always did. Refusing to acknowledge them until it was too late and the alpha blew up at someone, usually Jaskier.

“Talk to me.” Jaskier whispered. He was tired but not the bone weary exhaustion he’d been feeling for months. The last few days, Jaskier had had more energy to give. A god sent when he had a newborn that cried every few hours.

“Sleep.” Geralt growled back.

“Geralt, dear heart. Please, talk to me.” Jaskier pleaded. Geralt growled, amber eyes flashing at Jaskier and Jaskier felt his heart stutter at the intense pain in those eyes.

“It’s nothing Jaskier, please. Get some rest. You’re still recovering.” And there was the source of Geralt’s pain. Jaskier felt his heart twist painfully with the knowledge that he had caused this, albeit not through choice.

“Geralt, sweetheart. Talk to me.” Jaskier pleaded, running a finger down Geralt’s jaw. He was seated up now, looking at Geralt with pleading eyes.

Geralt looked at Jaskier with blazing eyes for a long time before he finally started to speak. “I almost lost you. You were bleeding out, fuck…Jask you were screaming in pain.” Jaskier blinked at him. He remembered the labour; he knew it was painful and that he’d screamed during the final contractions. But…well, it was all foggy and he didn’t really remember how loud he had been or how painful. “I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life. I thought I was going to lose you.”

“But you didn’t.” Jaskier breathed.

“I almost did.” Geralt growled. “You were so close to leaving me and then…fuck…you were unconscious for 2 days.” Jaskier winched, Triss had been the one to tell him that and Jaskier still winced at the knowledge of what Geralt must have felt.

“I’m sorry Geralt.” Jaskier said, voice soft so as not to wake Ren. “I’m so so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Geralt grunted.

“But you were scared.” Jaskier said, turning his face up to look at Geralt and pressing a kiss to his alpha’s lips. “You were scared and alone with a newborn baby…I can’t imagine how you felt.”

“It was fucking terrifying.” Geralt admitted, pressing his forehead against Jaskier’s. “But I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

“For Ren?” Jaskier asked.

“For Ren.” Geralt hummed.

“Do you regret t?” Jaskier asked, voice hesitant even as he spoke.

“Regret what?” Geralt asked, frowning slightly.

Jaskier dipped his eyes so he didn’t have to look directly into Geralt’s blazing amber ones as he said what he said next. “Everything that happened to bring Ren into the world. The…” Jaskier paused for a moment, emotion heavy in his throat before he could say the word.

“The rape.” Geralt spoke for him and Jaskier felt a churning in his gut at the thought of what had happened to him. “Do you?”

“I…I think destiny wanted us to have a child.” Jaskier began voice hesitant. “And…as horrible as it was…as…terrifying as it was. I don’t regret it. Not now we have our son.”

Geralt was silent, amber eyes blazing as he looked at Jaskier. “I don’t believe in destiny, even after Ciri. I think it’s horseshit that there’s something out there dictating our lives.” Jaskier chuckled softly. Geralt may say he didn’t believe in destiny but his actions proved him wrong. Ciri was evidence that destiny did indeed exist. The child surprise he refused, that destiny brought to him regardless of how he fought it. “But I’m glad we have Ren.” Jaskier turned his eyes to meet Geralt, whose amber eyes were fierce as he spoke the next words. “I wish you hadn’t had to suffer. I fucking hate that you did but…”

“It was all worth it in the end.” Jaskier finished and Geralt hummed.

Geralt’s arms wrapped around Jaskier, pulling his omega close and Jaskier went willingly, glad to find the tension gone from Geralt’s body as he melted into Geralt’s side. Geralt laid them both down, Jaskier curled tightly against his chest as they pressed their foreheads against each other. “I love you.” Jaskier murmured, kissing Geralt softly on the lips. Geralt hummed, returning the kiss and that was all the answer Jaskier needed.

……………

Geralt watched apprehensively as Yennefer and Triss helped Jaskier down the stairs. He was holding Ren, the baby cradled in his arms and bright blue eyes staring up at the clear blue sky. It was Ren’s first time out of Kaer Morhen, fuck out of his rooms, and the baby had been staring at everything they passed since the moment Geralt stepped out of the rooms with him in his arms.

Incidentally it was Jaskier’s first time venturing out of the rooms as well. Geralt had made a few trips out of the room, usually to bring up fresh food and water or take down clothes and nappies to be washed a few times (every time being mobbed by Witchers who demanded to know how the baby and Jaskier were as well as congratulating him with large grins and thumps on the back). But this was the first time Jaskier had left the rooms since the birth, 6 weeks ago.

Fuck, had it really been 6 weeks. Jaskier had been growing stronger and stronger by the day and while still weaker than he had been, months of bed rest and inactivity causing his muscles to weaken when they had once been strong, Jaskier was almost back to his old self. Better, even. Jaskier was positively glowing constantly, no more than when he held Ren in his arms.

Ren was growing as well. He was still tiny and fragile in Geralt’s arms but he wasn’t as small as he had been. He was vocal as well, certainly Jaskier’s child. Jaskier joked a few times that he was going to struggle keeping up with Ren’s hunger if the baby kept feeding like he had been. But the moment Geralt suggested using goat milk when Jaskier was too tired, Jaskier had refused. “He’s my son Geralt, until I can’t any more I’m going to keep feeding him.” And well, Geralt couldn’t argue with Jaskier on that.

“Beautiful.” Jaskier murmured, linking his arm through Geralt’s as he came up to them. His smile though was all for Ren, who was staring up at the sky. At his Papa’s voice, the baby looked at him and gurgled happily, making Jaskier’s smile brighter than ever before.

“Come on, Ciri can only keep the Witchers at bay so long.” Triss pointed out, herding the happy pair and baby along the green grass. Winter had well and truly left, though it was still chilly in the mountain air.

Geralt had been sceptical when Jaskier first suggested the outing. Jaskier insisting the baby needed to see the world for the first time and Jaskier saying if he had to stay in that room, in that fucking bed was how he really put it, he was going to go stir crazy. Geralt had only relented after 3 days of Jaskier alternating between begging, pleading and fully ignoring him. Though that was partly because Jaskier had turned to Ciri for help, who had dragged Geralt out of the room and proceeded to lecture him about how a baby (and omega) needed to see the sun and that Geralt couldn’t keep them locked in their rooms forever.

So Geralt had relented. Very reluctantly. He’d been sure to bundle Jaskier and the baby in warm clothing, Jaskier rolling his eyes but not arguing about the warm fur coat he bundled Jaskier in, or the 2 blankets and woolly hat Geralt loving wrapped Ren in. And Geralt had also insisted Triss and Yennefer come with them. While he knew Jaskier was a lot better, he also knew his mate wasn’t fully healed.

The birthing passage had healed nicely, according to Triss, but Jaskier still had some aches and pains. Jaskier had lost a lot of the baby weight, though his belly was still rounder than it had been (and face still to thin though it had started to get a healthy flush to it instead of the deathly white it had been). And no matter how much energy Jaskier had now, Jaskier was still weak. As evidence by the fact he had had to rely on Yennefer and Triss guiding him through the corridors, and was currently leaning quite heavily against Geralt.

Yennefer and Triss led them to a secluded spot in the garden where Ciri had laid out a picnic for them. She had helped Jaskier plan the day out, promising to keep the Witchers at bay and away from the newborn baby and Jaskier. As much as they all meant well, the last thing Jaskier or the baby needed was to be surrounded by well-meaning Witchers.

Most of them had been to the rooms to see Jaskier and the baby, though that was always in small groups, no more than 3 and if anyone started to get bawdy or fling a fucking knife in the air to show off (Lambert who Geralt had almost murdered when the idiot twirled the knife in the air to Ren’s happy gurgling) Geralt was quick to throw them out. All accompanied by an eye roll from Jaskier, though his mate never did once complain.

Geralt helped Jaskier sit down, who immediately leant against the tree and smiled contently. Geralt hummed, gently dropping the baby onto the blanket. Ren gurgled, hands in fists as he waved them above him, eyes roaming around the new scenery. Jaskier immediately went to his knees, kneeling over the baby and letting Ren grab at his fingers. Geralt hummed, sitting himself on the other side of the baby and watching Jaskier play with his son.

It was a beautiful day. The sun shining down. Flowers only just beginning to bloom. Jaskier and Ren sitting on the blanket. Perfect.

And then Jaskier gasped in shock. Geralt lifted his head instantly, hand going to grab his sword to protect his mate and child onto to freeze when he saw tears glistening in Jaskier’s eyes. “He’s smiling Geralt.” Jaskier breathed, tears flowing down his face as he looked at the tiny baby.

Geralt looked down and felt his heart melt at the sight. Little Ren with a smile on his face, gurgling up at his parents happily. A smile, just for them. It was the most perfect thing Geralt had ever seen.

………………..

Ren was 3 months old and this was the first time Jaskier was taking him down to the great hall. He’d fought with Geralt over this, the alpha storming away in anger just the evening previous when Jaskier announced his intentions for tonight. Geralt had been gone long enough for Jaskier to get worried, but just as Ren began to stir from his sleep for food, Geralt had reappeared.

“You’re sure about this?” Geralt asked, voice stern as he handed Ren to Jaskier. Yennefer and Triss had kindly sewed buttons into Jaskier’s chemise, leaving it easier for him to let Ren feed without stripping his shirt off entirely.

Jaskier took the baby in his arms, adjusting him slightly so the baby could latch on. When Ren did Jaskier winced a little, before settling himself against the back of the bed. “Positive.” Jaskier turned eyes to Geralt who was frowning at him. “They’re Ren’s family and I want Ren to be part of their lives. That involves going down for dinner. Plus he’s met all the Witchers by now. We even watched Ciri and you training the other day.”

“There was barely anyone in the training grounds then.” Geralt growled. “And Ren started crying because of the noise.” Jaskier winced a little at the memory, adjusting Ren in his arms as he did so.

Jaskier and Ren had gone down in the late afternoon to watch Geralt and Ciri training. The two had planned their training specifically for that time so Jaskier could come and watch without there being too many Witchers around. Still, Ren had hated the noise of the clanging metal, kicking up such a fuss that Jaskier had had to excuse himself and take Ren for a walk through the gardens. Ren loved the gardens, always smiling happily whenever he saw the bright flowers surrounding him.

“So now is the perfect time to go down. Before winter comes and the keep’s full to bursting again.” Geralt sighed, dropping down to the end of the bed. Ren had finished feeding and Jaskier gently lifted the baby, rubbing his back as the baby rested its chin on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“If you’re sure.” Geralt grumbled, resting a hand on his knee.

“I’m sure. And if it gets too much, we can go back to the rooms. They’ll understand.” Geralt grunted in agreement.

………

Geralt watched as Jaskier did the finishing touches to his outfit before twirling to face Geralt with a flourish. He’d lost the weight from the baby now, his slim figure once more back, and his face was no longer gaunt and as thin as it had been. He was wearing a bright red doublet, knee high boots, brown hair swept artfully over his face and a bright smile on his face.

“Perfect.” Geralt murmured, dropping his head to kiss Jaskier long and deep. Jaskier laughed, wrapping his hand tightly around Geralt’s neck and kissing him back.

When Jaskier stepped back, he immediately went to wear Ren was lying in his crib, chubby hands wrapped around the world. Picking the baby up, Jaskier grinned brightly at Geralt. Geralt handed Jaskier the orange blanket and watched with a smile on his face as Jaskier expertly wrapped Ren up in it before hoisting the baby higher in his arms and smiling at Geralt.

“Lead on good sir.” Geralt grunted and did as directed.

…………..

Jaskier held Ren a little tighter as they walked into the great hall, the baby fussing slightly at the noise coming from the room. Even with only 40 odd Witchers still left in the keep after winter they still made enough noise for over 100. Of course the minute Geralt stalked in, Jaskier close behind, the noise faded to nothing. All eyes turned to Jaskier and the baby and Jaskier stood frozen in the door for a moment, fear flooding him. This was the moment the Witchers refused his child. The moment he’d been dreading all those months into his pregnancy.

But then Lambert let out a loud cheer and it was quickly taken up by all the Witchers around them. Jaskier felt himself relax, Geralt wrapping an arm around Jaskier’s waist as he led him up to their usual spot.

Jaskier dropped down next to Ciri who smiled at him in greeting. Yennefer looked at him with a smirk on her face, eyes dropping to the baby and smiling softly before taking a sip of wine to hide it. Lambert thumped Jaskier on the back and Eskel did as well (though a lot softer thankfully). Vesemir smiled at him and Triss grinned madly. Ren shifted in Jaskier’s arms, gurgling at the sight of the Witchers surrounding him as Jaskier held his baby close.

Dinner passed normally after that. Well as normally as it could with a fussy baby in his arms. Ren was a ball of energy at the sight of so many people, gurgling and shifting to get a better view around him and Jaskier couldn’t help but smile so much it hurt at the sight. Ren was happy, surrounded by his family. It was perfect.

…………

Geralt saw Jaskier let out a stifled yawn from next to him, a little while after the last of the food had been served. Ren had fallen asleep in Jaskier’s arms half way through dinner, snuggled close into Jaskier’s chest. Dipping his gaze over to Yennefer, he saw the violet eyed sorceress smirk at him, eyes also on the omega and his son.

“Come on, bed time for you both.” Geralt murmured, gently taking hold of Jaskier’s arm.

Jaskier chuckled, letting Geralt pull him to his feet. Jaskier adjusted his hold on the baby slightly before turning to the table around him. “I’m afraid me and Ren aren’t used these long nights anymore.”

“Getting old their bard.” Lambert smirked and Jaskier gasped in horror.

“Never. I will be forever young.” 

“Forever annoying.” Lambert returned and both laughed before Jaskier had to stifle et another yawn.

“Come on, bed.” Geralt grunted, taking Jaskier’s arm and gently pulling him down the great hall.

When they got back to their rooms, Geralt gently took Ren from Jaskier’s arms to place him in the bed and give Jaskier a chance to change for bed. Gently lowering the sleeping baby into his crib, Geralt didn’t notice Jaskier coming up behind him.

Jaskier snaked his arms around Geralt’s waist, resting his head on top of Geralt’s shoulder with a soft smile on his face. “Perfect.” Jaskier murmured, kissing Geralt’s neck, just above the mated mark.

“Perfect.” Geralt agreed, eyes watching his tiny sleeping baby.

Perfect indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who read and commented and left kudos on this fic. It turned out a lot longer than I originally planned but it sort of got away from me.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed


End file.
